A nightly muse
Of thoughts diffuse
A thoughtless mind
With thoughts unkind,
A rhyme's plea
Beckoning to be,
A poet's mind
Her words unbind,
Far un sightly
Pained and slightly
Chaotic, inter-weaved
Labyrinthine and unseamed...
Her thoughts' stream,
A labored possession
Of loved recollections,
An urging tempt
To write unkempt
And sing untamed
Before the morrow
Bury thy sorrow,
In paper clean
Ink, ink blots
Joining scattered dots
Of unleashed thoughts
Across paper lays
Her scattered brain
All efforts vain
Seeming to be
Before trauma passes
Brought back sane
Weighing her losses
Weighing her gains
Poetic muse, that
Worded rather well
Like some stranger
She hath read
That signed below
Name familiar so
It dawned upon
This lady, wrong
Whenever did she
Write that song?
Which hers is
Now to call
'Tis dawn's dew
Awakening a new
Knowing of self
Last night's fire
Burned through those
Sheets of tire
Sudden smiles befriend
An unknowing visage
That must be
That must be
That is me
Spoke her mirage...

-Aayushi