Forlorn
They boast for taking
the road not taken
the one where the dry leaves settle
sapless and hopeless.
They boast for choosing it over the most travelled one,
the one which is barren
like a wide hair parting
of a Hindu widow.
But I have chosen none.
For I have nowhere to go,
no route, no destination.
I am the forlorn
at the middle of nowhere;
sitting on the steps of eternity counting the waves of infinity
I'm the one left out, the unsung.
About the Author
Sabrina Karim
Member Since: 17 Feb, 2016
I grew up in a time when books were the part of children’s life. Lazy afternoons turned fascinating with books which might have been a boon of not having other devices like ipad those days. Jokes apart, books have been my first love and as a co...
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