Hidden Truth

Cold and stormy nights,
Open the doors of my plight;
That I buried underneath.
And decked with a wreath;
Let no one no one know it, I thought,
The puzzle of life that distraught;
The unspoken words,
Like a cry of a jailed bird;
Crumbling hands, cold feet,
Sign of my love defeat;
Shall not, shall not see him again,
Raised arms, praying high, but then;
What to say, whom to plead,
I just sank within me as I bleed;
With no cuts and wound,
No marks to trace around;
All that I know and can sense,
Still in my heart and intense;
Shall not share or say
Thus remain forever in a way
As hidden truth.

by Sphoorthi Padmini Rangarajan

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.