Wound Poem by RAJ VIKRAM

Hounded by million
wounds I felt numb.
Unhealed ones
festered spreading
ache in my being.


Wounds that never
allowed themselves
to be grasped by
healing and soothing.

They thrived and
spread in the channels
of my body
devouring me slowly
but steadily
and with an urge
to annihilate me.

Existing wounds were
numberless and
I didnt deign it
needful to bother
about the new ones.

Wounds basked in
the glory of reigning
in a territory that
allowed them to thrive
I am aware,
yet unaware of them.
And I lay dormant
as they gorged on me

Wounds will wound up
their abominable
business once they
find me smiling
at them with disdain.
Then I would tell
all the tales to them.
I will live to tell
the tale, my tale.