Down towards the spectrum

On the spur of moment the sky showered rain.

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Moving upward with the unconsciousness,
I complimented my paramour with devotion.
Leaping and whrilling,chanting and crooning,
We struck down towards the chromatic spectrum.
Crumpling him rigidly,I landed on the fancy tract.
We witnessed those whimsical varmints.
The hallucinations were awful.
There we discovered anonymous people.
They seemed like non-existing misery.
The creatures were humongous.
The feathered immeasurable ostrich,
Did rule it’s territory.
On the spur of moment the sky showered rain.
Progressing out from the spectrum,
I saw Galore of water,
Thrown on me blissfully,
To wake me up from sleep.

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Arpita Mohanty
I am a pure literature junk. My poems are all I dream about, writing is all I do. Hobby is not other than reading. Without writing I am mortal.