Trap Into Desire Poem by ashok jadhav

(A single figure stands under a dim light, eyes fixed on an unseen distance. The voice is steady at first, then slowly unravels.)

I did not fall into desire—
I walked into it,
barefoot, unarmed, convinced I knew the way out.
It smiled at me, softly,
promised warmth, meaning, escape.
It called my name the way truth does,
gentle enough to sound harmless.
At first, it was only a wish.
Then a want.
Then a pulse beneath my skin
that would not let me sleep.
I told myself: I am in control.
I told myself: This is living.
But desire is clever—
it never tightens the trap all at once.
It feeds you hope,
then asks for more.
It gives pleasure,
then charges you with longing.
Now look at me.
Every thought bends toward it.
Every silence fills with its echo.
I measure time by absence,
and worth by how close I am to its touch.
Is this passion—or possession?
Is this fire—or a slow, beautiful burn?
I see the bars now,
but they are made of wanting,
and I helped build every one of them.
Still… I reach.
Still… I ache.
Because even trapped, desire whispers:
Without me, you are empty.
And that—
that is the cruelest lie of all.