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