Strangers In A Box Poem by Peeyush Yadav

In pursuit of happiness I searched among the rust,
And opened the box covered in rust.
Brain turned to mush, fingers arthritic,
And my skipping heart became septic.
Nostalgia, with a pinch of sadness, took over my senses,
Still I held the forgotten treasures at my own expenses.
Tattered around the edges, faded now with time,
The box contained the photographs
Of the time when our lives used to rhyme.
Memories from yesterday
Photos taken through the years,
Lovingly preserved to share the laughter and the tears.
A plaintive cry, but not the last,
As sweetness turned to cacophony of the past.
These were photographs of my sister and me,
Within the pages of heart, they couldn't let me be me.
Each photograph depicting a different emotion,
Some taken still, while others in motion.
Juvenile youthful smile dominating the one,
Which seems to have been lost in the long run.
In one, she is a flaccid butterfly,
Ready to coalesce with the overtly joyous sky;
An impregnable smile donned on her round face,
She flowed with life at her own pace.
Her lyrical hair dancing in one,
With a dream-like aura created by the sun.
Her delicate body, her elegant walk,
With a lopsided smile she could continuously talk.
She was my best friend, my host of heaven,
She filled the void in my life 24X7.
A visual chronology, a loving vision into the past,
Who had known the feeling wouldn't last.

In pursuit of happiness I searched among the rust,
And opened the box covered in rust.
The years have passed without a touch,
About our apocalyptic condition I can't say much.
What made our relationship lost its luster,
How the surface of its skin got adorned with blister!
I wish I could conjure up something,
About this sudden shift
From being sweethearts to nothing.
Seeing my sister after all these years,
Makes even the sky emotional with tears.
Submitting herself away from life,
She wrote me off without any strife.
Lost in the precisely knitted world of her own,
I know, to her, I am an unknown.
"It might be Schizophrenia, '' had said someone close,
Sinking in it our surreal life flows.
I see her trembling hands gripping he coffee mug,
Slowly slipping illness giving her a tight hug.
The coffee mug suddenly drops from her hand,
The burning liquid squalding her shaky hand.
A confusing haze sucks her into its undertow,
The shower of heat takes her with its flow.
I see her sit in her dark room, with no light,
Her spirit crumble to ground without any fight.
Counting the crows on the opposite walls,
The drenching moment makes my heart fall.
I go to her with a ray of hope,
But the shadows in my heart made me stop.
I melt down, I wanted her to trust,
But, our relationship bites off the dust.
Reality and fiction trounced into locks,
We are reduced to being strangers in a box.