Recently,
I have been writing about
How much I hate change.

Why did I stop writing about
How much I hate myself?
When did I change?

This room is only substantial when
the light hits the clock face
and casts a second sun onto the ceiling,
its single eye unblinking,
tireless as time. It watches me as
I watch its handless face
from the floor of this weary, weary room,
for this is where I lie.

I am waiting for the light.
I am waiting for the third sun
to annihilate the window and the mirror
and the clock face. I am waiting for
my body to be cauterized, my hair to be burnt
and to vacate like a shadow
in the dark. I am waiting,  
for this is where I want to lie.

This room is no longer substantial.
The curtains are drawn, a thin sheet
to forestall the burn of light
I am waiting for. I sit at the desk,
as I wait, professing onto pages,
for this is where I lie.

Is this what it is to love then?

-

To be forever in pain,

A fire burning in the pit of my stomach,

A smoke stinging at my eyes?

Is this fire never to be put out,

By the gentle touch of a beautiful river,

Never to be quelled by the loving hands

Of one who’s seasons change in time with mine?

-

Ah, but it must burn on,

For my love is not like others.

It is not the blooming, glorified sun,

It is the moon, hidden behind a cloud.

Neither is it the lively spring, crisp with newborn life,

It is the autumn, decaying leaves and approaching winter.

-

I am then to be spat on,

To be broken,

To be trapped like an infestation of rats.

It is the wrong love,

It is a snow shower in midsummer,

It is loving what is not yours to love.

-

Day after day I hear sweet words

Whispered or said in blossoming tones,

But they are not for me.

From those who I wish would whisper

Comes no word for they can never

Utter a single syllable to me.

-

And so must everyone but I

Feel the tender kisses of the sun

And find the first flowers

of spring laid on their pillow?

And shall I not bathe in the

Pale glow of a sublime sunrise or

Feel the passionate heat of a beautiful summer?

-

Ah, but I shall not.

I shall feel only the broken skin of hands in winter,

Feel the touch of a broken pine.

I will see only the angry stone of the mountains

And suffer the sting of the bee.

How brutal are the hearts of man,

Those stones I wish to crack.

-

Ah, what an impossible task it is that I have been set.

and I begin to wonder.

Was this love to love at all

or was it but a curse placed on me?

An ant was roaming
May be, in search of mates
Creeping like a snail
As if desperate.
From one end to the other
It took almost two hours
Without any rest
Running with a great quest.
Perhaps, in the search of parents
Or may be children
Can be soul mate
Or someone for fun.
Another ant emerged from the woods Made a guess
Searching for her food
.....The fellow ant saw someone familiar
I observed, creeping became a race
With a very fast pace
They both were almost too near
Suddenly, a man walked on them
With his fatal feet without sympathy
The two souls were then lying barren.
Crushed by chance or carelessly
Didn't matter
Their transitory fragile heart
Stopped by that evil
Ready for their next birth
Either of an angel or of a devil.

Surbhi Dadhich..

Close the Window.
I have lost myself in this notorious nature,
That bonny Kingfisher and those jumping Squirrels.
There, far in the woods,
Kids are enjoying their childhood.
That bird is toddling,
First step for her vast sky.
My heart is echoed by their chirping,
Producing that effect is impossible for the filmmakers , even if they try.
But, Why is that building around?
Oh! NO ,There are many found.
Those fleet of crows among pathetic peacocks.
Rushing in my world, slowly and steadily,
Going to win this race,
With a quick pace.
I can't see it.
Close the Window.

Surbhi Dadhich.

The door has no key to let you out
Your trapped in a web of despair
Your cought by the power of another
Now your broken and past repair.
You have no control you are boundless
You have no voice you are soundless
Floating in air you are groundless.
The hopes you had cannot be found
Great exspectations have let you down
Now all that is left are feelings of dought
Given to you by the power of another.
All of your colours have now turned grey
Leaving your dreams in disarray
All that you had has gone too soon
Taken from you by the power of another
What ever happened to the sun and moon
And all the stars that shone so bright.?
And all those fields you walked upon
They have all disappeared into the night.
You lived on earth in your own paradise
Now all has gone like a bird in flight
Taken from you by the power of another
Snatched away from your heart and mind
Gone in a flash then out of sight
Your hopes have become like a fading light.

Captured and shackled
to a wick of flesh and bone.

Thoughts as kindle,
takes spark -
setting alight what fuel
that runs within.

Anticipated blaze -
you know but never
acknowledge.

Time is here and now...

So pardon me
while I burst
into flames...

.