The epic knock

has snatched away

reasons to smile

and exude glint

sore with wound and scar

my humble being this season

pleads for genuine cogent gleam

Fissures of gaping reality

haunt my spirit and soul

contours of chaos strip off

my peace of mind

leaving me battered bruised

beyond repair and control

I am left to mend

a beaten track

play a melancholic tune

a rhythm abstract

the saga of love

impinged by

unhealthy volley of snide remarks

fails to consummate

slips off the track

A quaint dawn

once in a while

visits my forlorn visage

attempts to fill layers of silence

as torn and mangled remains of supine soul

tries to hug guileless life

swiftly adding numbers

to my age.

                                                 ~Sujata Dash

                                                  Bhubaneswar, India