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By Arup Srivastava Published about a month ago 1 min read
Photo by Ales Krivec on Unsplash

The time passes
sometimes stop slowly
sometimes so fast that everything stops
Time passes.
But leaves behind a long line of shadows
On that fourth axis,
on which we walk without consciousness
Sometimes years pass, sometimes centuries, and then we back to their senses, then every morning they change another scale of the date, move forward on that fourth axis and say
time passes


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Comments (1)

  • Esala Gunathilakeabout a month ago

    It's nice to read your first poem on Vocal and be the first commenter on this poem. I subscribed you to read your upcoming poems and if you wish you can subscribe me as well.😊🥰🥰

ASWritten by Arup Srivastava

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