By: Sara Hamayun
Blow out the candles, each flicker of flame whispers a memory, the light reflecting the glow of my childhood.
I watch, as the smoke disappears into the ease of remembrance, it swirls in patterns like the old paintings on the fridge.
The cake knife glimmers, a sword forged by time, the soldier, an adolescent who's hand is in mine.
Oh, eighteen approaches, a threshold of fear. The weight of the future brings forth a salty tear.
The sound of childhood echoes in the breeze, in the golden glow of sunlight through the swaying trees.
We danced with simple wishes, little body but a world so wide, as the time slipped through our fingers, grains of life.
I stand in my family’s warm embrace, a bitter-sweet serenade to the past that drifts away.
Blow out the candles, let the wishes take flight like stars, pure and bright.
Author's Bio
Sara is a writer from pakistan who's writing mainly focuses on essays and poems