Nishchal PS

Nishchal PS Poems

The Best Poem Of Nishchal PS

Fishtail

The mountain breathes,
a silvered crest, a whisper,
a secret folded in clouds.
It leans over the village,
where concrete clings to the earth,
stacked atop dreams that flicker
like candles in the wind.
Fishtail watches.
Its gaze—an old prophet's stare,
seeing every thread woven
into homes below,
hearing the quiet sighs
of children, of prayers stitched
into walls no one dares speak aloud.
The peak speaks without voice,
but the earth trembles beneath it.
A slow pulse beats from sky to stone.
They say it guards us,
but does it judge as well?
Does it carry the weight of whispers,
secrets piled higher than the tallest roofs,
softly crumbling away?
Homes stretch like arms,
reaching for its ear,
begging for wisdom,
or maybe, forgiveness.
Fishtail listens.
But silence is all it offers.
Perhaps it is enough to be seen,
by something so ancient,
so vast it holds us steady,
as we climb toward its quiet,
hoping one day it will understand.

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