It never emerged
It was cut to size
In the morning
Like a ritual

This time
It emerged
When we were alone
Like a shadow

We spent time
Alone and together
It stayed
As a friend

Bit unkempt
Some strands of grey
Whichever way
It still remained

over the days
It grew
It grew on me too
It was me

Days of recluse
were getting over
I had to head back
to the world
Of rules and rituals

The beard has no place
It must be cut to size
Like a ritual
Like it had never

Published by Echoes of the soul

I am a dreamer I weave tales in my mind I am connected to you through these words through this screen across the virtual world I and my tales within

2 thoughts on “Beard

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