#WritcoPoemPrompt22
He drops on the sandy folds,
Of a deathly bed,
A lost traveler of a mighty desert,
Parched throat, cracked skin,
He is his own Messiah,
Or another vagabond victim...
He can't express his feelings by ,
Ever being Dormant
or emotionally traumatic experience
sometimes he feels lathergic or sometimes ignored,
Life has preached many lessons
but the only ones is the last one
he shares tales, cramps, status and many more
still being the most favourite version of himself ,
Loosing something and gaining sometimes,
but every wishes to be like him one night,
even not a brain is matured untill that's nurtured,
then how can be a human develop with our furnished .
Keeping these hopes closed doors are even booked ♥️
© Sikha Nayak