Quicksand. Under my feet.

Quicksand of a make belief world.

Hallowed. Outwardly.  Colorful.

Of seven plus colors.

But, a Quicksand.

Where the sunrays fell.

From time eternity.

Only to be broken in seven minus colors.

Into a blackholeish oblivion.

A nothingness of hopes.

A nothingness of desires.

A nothingness of apparition.

There disappears my existence.

In the quicksand.

Quicksand of lies.

Quicksand of deception.

Quicksand of trust.

Created by me.


About rirakesh

I feel a bit disturbed by the prevailing condition in our society, so I write: poems, articles & stories.
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