By Vyakhya Pandey
She wont put up a false show,
she will absolutely make no pretence.
She will remain the same
Even on the universe’s periphery.
Shes a raconteur in reverie.
She wont let her malice know,
she stopped longing for vengeance.
She will stroll without an aim
In search of her long lost bravery.
Shes a raconteur in reverie.
Every chink in her armour made her well versed,
in the ways people could hurt.
She longed for a fountain of joy
While standing on sorrows desert
But for she was a raconteur
She had to be wise with her remarks
Her words could make or break a potrait
Or fill it with art
In her reverie she found comfort
which she turned to alluring tales.
The tales packed with dilemma,
mystery, fantasy and pain.
For dilemma she chose the undesirable
For mystery she chose the sounds she hears
For fantasy she chose her future
For pain she decided to shed a few tears.
But she couldn’t afford running out of stories
She was the pillar of strength
For the raconteur was everyone’s pal
But no one was the raconteur’s friend
By Vyakhya Pandey
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