Works of RK

I looked at the rampage on the pages. Words scribbled in search of redemption And stricken off by sins of despair. Surely, this is not the promised road to Elysium. Nothing would grow Out of these half bled out pages and an ancient pen. I have to go out into the world and seek my redemption. - - - - These open windows Let streaks of sunlight drift in Reeking of her light

The earth is so withered  From its longing for you The reeds of your memories Have shriveled dry and bled Into parchments of forever tales. Now my dear, There will no longer Be any death for you

When it was time for her to go, it was also time for me to let go. Once an irritant is washed out, they say you can start seeing better immediately. All that stupid tears and all that rubbing of the soul, until your eyelids would cry out, no more, no more.  And then, just like that, one fine day, I wake up, and she was gone.   As the train chugged out The tracks cried out in senseless creaks of half despair Hear the poem here