Sheets after sheets I flip..
Mixing every colour to get some shades..
Carefully carving different shapes.
Images and alphabets..
hieroglyphs, and languages..
Unspoken, unheard, unseen, untaught..
Scrubbing my skin on the walls..
So centuries later when I'm unearthed,
She could still smell the essence of my soul..
So she could read catastrophic history written on my bones..
How my soul was pure but my body cursed..
And how after drinking 7oceans,
I died of thirst..
