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. Copyrighted © 2017–18