August 23, 2012

Alone, Beaten

I battled with patience
built townscapes out of matchsticks
shot down some stars for a neckpiece
only to face a wall of silence

Thick creepers
clutched down my throat
viscous words
defeated in the depths

And tears
never when needed
never when needed

In that silent continuum
as night folds people into sleep
with wraps of anger
or lack of love and feeling
dreaming their purple dreams

I sit
alone, again
vomitting words
streaming tears


Aditi said...

I absolutely loved the use of metaphors. The piece is very touching and strikingly portrayed. It seems like you've picked up a "frame of mind" of a person and painted a portrait out of it. Lovely! :)

Sandhya Ramachandran said...

Hi Aditi,

Thank you once again. I am at a loss of words! You overwhelm me!


© Dryad's Peak
Maira Gall