I long to sing the song of the sun;
Run wild barefooted on the sun-dried grass;
Pluck and suck on the sun-kissed berries
Until my lips turn into dark budding roses.
I want my vision filled with sunsets
That can turn the entire sky lilac.
I want to hold the sun in my bosom
And warm my tired heart enough
Such that when Winter comes,
Its icy fingers cannot put out the fire within me.
Sareo Leiyachon
LitWeekend
LitWeekend invites short stories, folklores, poems and anecdotes with objectives of instilling reading culture, promoting literary and aesthetic creativity, besides honing aspiring writers of our region.
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