However She Treads...

She indubitably knows that however she treads:
Left to the burnt lands, or right to the green lands,
or straight to the dead-end of unclimbable high lands
and tirelessly chew a tunnel to reach the flat lands,
the maps on her palm would remain the same:
never would close-in or intersect any road of his.

To destroy false visions that cloud her brain:
Roads where she walks with her hand in his,
head softly rested on his shoulder and eyes
closed in the warmth of re-found love; she plunges
her head in a pond of piranhas, which munch all
false cells and give her the view of the real world.

Just when she exchanges blood for inner peace,
a huge whale flies before her, with all dreamt
roads flashing like strips of silver in bright sunlight
in its transparent, mocking belly and re-sprouts
all old illusionary roads in her bruised brain
and she treads aimlessly, with false hope, again.

by Pradeep Dhavakumar

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