all the lost prayers
where do they go
filed somewhere
as a record
of rejected applications?
gathering dust
faded with age
there's a prayer
long lost
no hope fueling it
making it soar
what's a butterfly
without its wings
i think the heart
it holds them
close to itself
long after the brain
abandons them
and when we die
it's not old age
that kills us
but it's just
the heart filling up
of these prayers
long lost and dead
-------
Pic by Basu. It's the opposite to all that this poem is about. It's hope. For all prayers.