Vinita Sahu

Whose Footsteps Are Those? - Poem by Vinita Sahu

Heavy footsteps in the corridor,
Just Sounds
And resounds.
Whose footsteps are those?
No one really knows.
They tramp down one by one,
Down the dreary stairs,
As if with an aim,
To make us scare.

Every alternate Friday night,
March when they,
To give us a chilling fright,
Thought I oneday to look into the matter.
Rose on the pedestal,
To sneak onto the platter.
Absolute silence prevailed there,
Challenging anyone who might dare.

I climbed onto the flights of stairs,
Defying the eeriness in the air.
Head over the shoulder,
Much more bolder.
With throbbing heart,
Each time the feet felt
Much more colder.

Then another flight,
Trying hard for their sight,
Moving through frosty light,
Challenging one a severe bite.
Yet the secret needed,
To be exposed.
The pall of suspense,
Called to be disposed.
So I moved by now,
To the eighteenth floor,
Supposed to be,
The den of those.

Holding the heart in my hand,
Bristling hair in dismal strand.
Continued my ascent,
Without much pretence.
Clattering on the granite,
Holding myself, precariously tight.
Beads of sweat,
Over my temple.
Goose bumps hot,
Enough to kindle.

With solemn conviction in myself,
And divine blessings of thyself,
Now I was into their haunted court,
Awaiting the spirits to do their sport.
Their existence into the air,
Was felt by me,
When a whiff of strong wind,
Spun in a gusto around me,
And an icy touch on my nape,
Threw me down on the floor to gape.

Should I hang around?
Or take my escape?
Were the questions,
That kept me draped.
But my heart longed for excitement,
Thus my lungs pronged in enticement.
After all they were our people's past,
Could I befriend them,
And be their counterpart?

Perhaps they weighed my ardent thought,
Warded off therefore the idea to thwart.
A huddle of them in one corner,
Snuggled together in a garner.
A dozen eyes flashed on me,
As if frightened by the man in me.
But a gentle smile on my lips,
Slackened the grip,
Of their fingertips.
I was there not to harm thee,
Or ask them even to flee,
After all we were folks of human tree,
And belonged to the same pedigree.

                         Written by Vinita Sahu

Topic(s) of this poem: ode, suspense

Form: Ode

Comments about Whose Footsteps Are Those? by Vinita Sahu

  • Vinita Sahu (12/29/2015 8:05:00 AM)

    One's curiosity propels one on a journey unknown, sometimes towards even risky zones, but your courage and vows not to hinder others, brings you back safe and sound! The attitude to live and let live always works in life! (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, September 19, 2015

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