Sightless Dreams Poem by Akshita Kohli

Rain pouring down the celestial range of dark volcanoes
Cascading into an ocean where
I am at no rest,
Waves in me, causing heavy currents
Mourning as everything is so black;
Perhaps I can't see like the rest.
I am the imperial head, the leige of my sunless life
O my God, is it thy delight?

Incapacitated I can't see the silver moon, stars of the dusk and golden dawn;
The mellifluous chaffing of the clouds pinion on the river
The rumbling and the lightening of the thunder storm
Jeweled with the pulverized embers of amethyst and opal.

I hate my flawed life
Mortified and subdued; unilluminated world seems all wrong,
Like a speckled sky that burns like a Phoenix so magnificent and strong
Tormented and baffled for the innermost storm of the dead ecstasy
Cursing the cursed fruit that I sickled from the ripened harvest
Wounded with desire that I crave - to see the world and the morning light
Run between the succulent mango groves sans fear or fright
To behold the zenith of splendour rainbow that has clasped the sun in its arms - O what a delight,
A longed for passionate thirst to contemplate at the world from the highest of minaret
An imagination so out of my sight
To not just live but mark my existence;
a fanatical yearn aflaming in the blazing fire
Knackered and surfeited I can't see - my eyes ruptured
My desires buried under ginormous forests of deep pale snow
lugubrious agony filling me up
Completely wruged in tribulations
But to give up, is what I don't know
With a glittering shrine of thine
In fissures of my heart, I sing thy orisons
Sanguine it will yield me some good
And one day the rain will again pour down exuding the colours of happiness and joy
When thou will bless me with the vision to see the sky
To touch the horizons so high