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