Treasure Island

Shruti Goswami


Anonymity


Let my anonymity wreak havoc
In such a way;
That the tempests fail to rise
With their scary hoods,
And the winds blowing
Give in to a lull, before a storm,
The waves no longer crash ashore,
The flowers fear to bloom,
And the pollens now no longer know,
Their journey back to home.
Hiding thus, tranquillity,
Sought after, never got,
The soul it cries so mournfully,
Creates an aura of death of birth.
Fragile, not yet broken;
The wounds of heart, not yet spoken,
Maybe the first, or the last,
Whatever it maybe,
It's just that,
Liberating anonymity.

Submitted: Tuesday, March 12, 2013
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