Trapped in an illicit hoax, jammed in doubts,

How/When/Why surge infinite doubts.

 

Bridges pelted, all turned to dust,

Kinships being a valiant alibi amidst frantic doubts.

 

Too scared of the perilous seclusion,

Being shoved in a dungeon better or in well sheltered doubts?

 

Be it a whimpering loss of a shoulder in the rain,

Or a shower of empty hugs and obscure doubts.

 

“Who shall take charge? Who shall burn the pyre?”

Flames burnt all the discords with camphor scented doubts.

 

In a shack of curses and maladies together,

“Me, Myself and I ” toss up frugal doubts.

 

Adequacy sets up a Samyak route for a bird with a broken wing,

For your stories might get buried alone,

Six feet under frantic doubts.

                                                                               ~ Samyak Singh Thakur

                                                                               Madhubani , India