Killing Poem by Shruti Goswami

It's killing me, every time I see,
Now I know:
I'm bordering on insanity.
My breath just stops,
Wish the music just explodes and makes me deaf;
Mute as if I were.
Every time the stones clattered,
And the teeth chattered,
A gasp escaped; and I got trapped.
The muddy waters; the whirlpools of love;
Sucks me deep beneath, and still someone clapped!
Trapped in a camp;
And the ground beneath my feet slides away;
The clamouring on the walls nails dug deep;
The winter's dewdrops cry and weep.
Its killing me; this life,
An abominable pain;
Rises in crests and troughs;
Comes back yet again.
It's killing me, now I don't see,
What it means to be,
The venom that spews,
Just sticks on me.
Refusal, denial, thousand and one ways,
Take it away, and let me be free.
This thing, its killing me;
So let it be, so let it be.