The Wick Of Dreams
The candle had melted,
by Nayanthara Rajeev
The light of hope panted, struggling to breathe.
Whirling in the shallow wax of life, never giving up.
Hoping to revive from the murky realism.
Life is bewildering but this demise is awaited.
This phase almost neared its end, end of its very existence.
This is her story.
Her story, story of that girl.
The girl who travelled alone,
The girl who dressed as she wished,
The girl whom darkness dared to scare,
The girl who had dreams to catch,
The girl who lived her life.
Not because she was born a girl
But because she was born to this malicious society.
The wolf was everywhere, she fought back
But this time, stranded she was
Ripped her apart, slashed her dreams,
She had to take it for it is her ruthless fate
The buzzing name of god no longer could sustain her
The wick of the ultimate spark fused in the serene wax
She, had gone
The light of desires went off, her ambitions, dreams barren
She, a solitaire soul vulnerably wandering in the forlorn desert.