By Sanchita Gupta:
The setting sun and strewn sand,
The passing moments and the pain inapt.
Such is my condition.
Sitting by the desolate sea,
My only confidante and friend-in-need.
All the troubles are lounging in my mind
As if I am a paper boat in the storming night.
The shattered moments, the breaking apart
Are my only pals for the leftover parts.
A lifeless leaf, a wingless bird
Everyone said that things happen for a good,
Like a monk I have wandered, searching for peace.
My destiny is lost and so has its meaning.
A decade of tragedy is my life’s name
God has forgotten that he had once created me as well.
The same walks on the shore are a painful nightmare
It pierces my heart to think that I am still here.
Laughter is an unknown identity,
Passing vainly through me.
The gap between the fingers is filled by my own,
The wandering eyes, this wobbling mind,
A civil strife inside.
If this is life then, god forbid, what death might seem like.
The flowers have lost their blossoms
The butterflies have shed their shades
The moonlit nights make no goosebumps stand
And so have the winds and the rains.
The soft music is nothing more than a buzzing now.
My soul is waiting for freedom
Standing near the window of my eyes,
A speck of hope
A belief in god,
But still no sign of respite.
Are all around me
Maybe I am the chosen one,
Hence, they are not meant for me.