Treasure Island

Ashly Raju

(26.08.1997 / Iritty)

The wall


I waited to see
My reflection in you
My eagerness reached the sky.
As the day passes
Its strength spreads to the universe.

Days passed as the seconds.
Neither I saw
The spread of my reflection
To the world
Nor I saw it in your eyes.

You never knew me
And never tried for that.
The only thing you had
Is the shapeless, figureless
Shadow of mine.

I will never say
That you do nothing
You do a lot.
You cover me
You wrapped my personality.
As if the ashes covers the cinder
Though I persisted to glow
You showered as rain on me.

You are always
A painful fence for me
You prevent my journey
You closed
The world of a free bird
Before me
That always awaited for
My arrival.

I see the increase
In your force of compress
Like the distructive flood.
But I can't be
A person without words.
I can't be actionless.
I can't be visionless.
I am not suppose
To end my life in between you,
The walls.
I have to reach
The heart of the living spirit
And have to burnish
Everything around me.

Submitted: Sunday, August 11, 2013
Edited: Saturday, August 17, 2013

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Comments about this poem (The wall by Ashly Raju )

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  • Valsa George (8/16/2013 11:41:00 PM)

    Walls are there! Such obstructions are undeniable! But never let it prevent you! If you desire to soar high, the entire sky stretches wide before you! Take a leap! The determination and confidence expressed here are so commendable! A powerful write, Ashly! ! (Report) Reply

  • Aswath Raman (8/14/2013 2:49:00 PM)

    You have given a level of controlled emotion through this lines. When you climb the big eall of pains, you, the successful, witty, bold and confident you should be the reflection in their eyes. A write with immense confidence and extreme passion. Please read the poem Pink written by shreya nair. (Report) Reply

  • Doug Bentley (8/13/2013 7:00:00 PM)

    This is a break-through. A definite sense of maturing control, of being able to plumb the inner, then separate, analyze, mold. In the recognition that art is the examination, not expression of self, there is the possibility that on the horizon lies the other as a final release in art. (Report) Reply

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