Wind of the Blessing The wind grazes the sky as my heart flutters to gold, Anticipation glimmers in my eyes, longing for a path to unfold. My future feels shattered, its fragments haunting my soul, Yet my body bears the ache, learning slowly to be bold. A scar blooms on my chest, carved with quiet confession, A mark of pain, a symbol of silent expression. Grief grows within me as my beloved fades to dust, She who embraced me despite my cold and jagged crust. Her touch, though blind, awakened memories I still keep, Her spirit lingers, stitching fragments I dare not weep. I wander through the forest, the sun warming my feet, And sit upon a log, where grace and thoughtfulness meet. A hand brushes mine, tingling through my fingertips, Its scent recalls my parents, memories I resist. But his voice, soft and kind, rewrites my pain with care, He asks if I’m alone; I whisper, “I miss her,” into the air. Tears fall as I drift toward the house where sorrow drips, Another hand, cold as mine, touched my eye with cryptic lips. He says, “Your eyes aren’t broken,” and my heart quietly slips. Ranuthi Vihasna 8C Full Poem:
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