Cold SmoulderA Poem by Archishman Rick
King of the fire nation,
Entrapped in thick layers of ice, Was it just scarce conviction, Or was his bright flame too nice. Wrestling off the big boulder, Throwing away the stern stone, Fire under cold smoulder, Could be given space to smoke. Rich burning scent would arise, Nostalgic sense feeding hope, Black smoke awaiting sunrise, White clouds to expand its scope. And thus you follow your trail, Of metaphors in the life, To know what can care or ail, Foundation set to beat strife. © 2023 Archishman RickFeatured Review
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1 Review Added on April 5, 2021 Last Updated on October 30, 2023 AuthorArchishman RickWest Bengal, IndiaAboutA fellow in my mid twenty's, I have a knack to challenge myself mentally and physically. I aim to find, and trust the worth in the things which present themselves in life. I like to write rhythmic, m.. more..Writing
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