Its grueling functions.
My senses grow colder,
Harder and freeze,
As he crawls and crawls,
At dragging pace.
If Happiness like him,
Could crawl through life,
If the past could dissolve,
Like deceit in the child’s heart.
If the present could hide
In intangible darkness,
And if my future could die
In Time’s womb,
I would feel more alive.
Who desires to live?
Listen, you crawling creature,
Voicing painful desires in me,
If your span be short,
Shorter than mine,
Tell Him, I am too vile
To comprehend His plan.
And ask Him,
Will He brand me an ‘escapee’?
ANUSHA.U.R.
|
14 yrs
|
This is a poem I liked until it was published. This was published in the youth express section of The Indian Express.
