Samaira Gupta Poems

I am a pace-maker
To the heart that atrophies.

I am Charon, the boatman
...

You may call me ungrateful,
You may think I’m impudent,
You may even cast aspersions on me
If you wish.
...

I cast myself into the waxen mould
To be what you desire;
Then I cast you into the waxen mould
To be what I desire.
...

I wish I knew
How to restore
Torn rose petals
Back upon their withered calyx.
...

When mermaids cry,
The world sleeps unperturbed,
But the oceans tremor
And the dolphins sigh.
...

Why does your incorrigibly repulsive attitude
Fill me up with apathy?

Why does your overconfident stride
...