Fireflies,
the golden glow dimming, a fleeting ballet of light
in the embrace of your hand;
Had you caught a stellar?
When I reached out to catch the lights
I had crushed those you so adored.
Fragile, fleeting things are meant to be ‘loved’ with utmost sincerity
A quiet whisper,
The lotus blooms near your feet
As you let the flickering light escape
I cannot bear to return to that forsaken town,
The garlands you loved, missing
The shore so full of life, dormant
Washed away
- Taarini Goyal, Editor-in Chief, RLS 2024-25
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