Words

Dying embers.
Wild flames.
Twenty-six letters.
A thousand names.
Scratches on paper.
Slender frames.
Young words.
Ancient games
Wither and fade,
Into an insipid blur.
But with some Rhyme,
Alliteration, Assonance,
And consonance,
Forming a battalion of lines
And stanzas,
Winning hearts,
And breaking too.
Leaves their mark.
Forever.

– Mahesh Mali.

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