Dying World Poem by AKRITI SUMAN

A cupboard full of dresses
Lying along the side of the bed
Alone and away from the madding crowd
Some were torn
Some were adorned with diamonds
Like the night sky full of stars
In the dark unknown world
Red yellow were the colors of those
They sat together quietly in the bed
Feeling the presence of unknown ecstasy
That was lying with them
Their colors tried to run
But they were girdled by walls
That was black with a sempiternal loneliness
Condoning the silence for giving them unknown somber
And there was a door
Open to let the west wind enter
To blow the poems of thoughts
That wanted to spread
But the vociferous emotions of the world stepped in
They got absorbed in those clothes
Interpretation of the unwanted thoughts now encircled them
They were divided
Made to stay away
The mortal souls came in to wear their status
They were wore again
Some went to the dark street
Covered by the lighted rays of the sun
Drying again
Trying to carve the pleasure in the shape of circled circumstances
in round coins
and some went to the carnivals of colored expression
where clowns with sticks played the instruments of life
eating a false gratitude
and presenting the dryness of their minds in the yellow leaves
Wearing a mask made of feathers of a thirsty vultures
The essence of novelty of arrogance and worldly symbolism
Suffocated these clothes
Days passed
And they were again in the same room
The room and the bed brought them closer
They were still lying alone under the dark sky
Waiting for tomorrow to come
To absorb the immortality of screaming thoughts..