Shagun Khera (09 June 1984 / Delhi)
An Orphan's Melancholy
One again.. the cold breeze robs him off his sleep..
And in the early hours of morning..
Amongst the sleepy lull of his room…
He walks on to the window of distant hope..
Silent and calm..he slips on his coat….
Orphange! ! the gloomy lights reflect on the engraved letters
He looks upto the sky as if questioning his existence…
Yes, both his and the one they call god,
Far away the shimmering lights of life…
Mock him at his destiny…
Destined to be deprived….
And in his cold heart, he inhales cold breath…
Freezing his hope, as the days pass by….
A tear slithers down his dew kissed cheeks…
His eyes…stuck as a stare of a corpse….
Sniffling quietly, he beholds his roaring anger inside…
Cut out by incised silence…a death of words…
which greeted him on his birth…
only to live with him forever….
And there he sits on the porch…
The wolves in his mind battle…
Hate and love..which one to feed..
Which one to grow…
But as the sun rises, his trembling body,
Wakes up to the fear of getting caught….
And like a forgotten memory…
He slips away into his room,
Robbed of dreams for a very long time…
His days weep……
While every night he silently dies…..
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