Skip to main content

#11


There was a time when her wings glowed.
It was home to the shining fireflies.
Its fluttering pierced into the ears of folks.
The bright colours of the wings always created the rainbow around her.
Little did she know that the wings too would die, die into deeper solitude.
Her whole world circulated around those wings which carried her into the realms of unspoken realities.
But little did she know that the night was always jealous of her wings.
She glowed bright as Sirius in the night that every matter included her light and every being wished to be with her.
Little did she realized that there were powers of darkness that could bring her down. Down into the hell were pessimistic waters flowed and from  where the reverse rains of apocalypse poured.
Broken and disappearing, with dead wings and dead mind she lies immersed in the height of winter, desparate to find home at the least  in a tangled hair!


A.C

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

THE DREAMCATCHER ( A Poem)

She tried. And made the hoops from willows to wove those magical webs. Wrapped the hoop with suede lacing. The string was woven onto the hoop. Hours passed. She wove some of her favourite decorations to it. Feathers and gemstones, hidden with meanings. Hours passed. But she wanted it  to be perfect. And finally, here it is. THE DREAMCATCHER. She hung it on  her bedroom wall and watched it carefully. Rubbed it with an artist's pride. The hoop smiled, ensuring the travel of sun through the mighty sky. She thought that when night comes  the hole in the center would only let Bawedjige( good dreams)pass. She would be able to sleep safe and sound today. The nightmares will never ever haunt her. For she has her Dreamcatcher. And Bawedjigewin( bad dreams) will be trapped in the web, to be dispelled at the first light of morning. She slept. The sun rays pierced into her eyes. She opened her eyes with the innocence of a newborn babe. The thought stroke...
2 comments
Read more

A Call for One More Summer Swim

  Dear Oliver,    Last summer was not only about freshly smelling grass and ripened peaches to me, it became something more than that because of you. Your arrival to help my father taught me lessons for a lifetime. It was you who gave meaning to my summer, to my days and its absurdities. When I first saw you, little did I realise that you are going to unravel the real Elio, an Elio who was so much in love. An Elio who was so confused at the choices of his love and who showed the courage to confront it no matter what. I remember when you whispered to me "Call me by your name and I'll call you by mine", the time when I felt as if the four lettered word Elio pouring out from your mouth is all I wanted to listen to in this entire universe. But sometimes life offers us a different path, away from what we actually want.  I still remember the fun we had at Bergamo, the way you kissed me secretly pressing against the walls, never did I experience that feeling ever again. Bec...
Post a Comment
Read more

#17

Everytime there came a music from the old devastated house on the hilltop.It wasn't jazz or melody or rap or opera. It sounded the broken soul. The long lost soul set to dwindle and shrink in solitude.Sewed into melancholy and dresssed in rhapsody,the hilltop triumphed over the hurricane of that season.And the music from the house gradually faded away,to welcome the next season. A.C 
Post a Comment
Read more