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Senthil Rhaj Jun 2020
Winds became scary, clouds became haunting,
Birds clinging to nests, trees dancing as ghosts,
I was ten, when I was lost, that evening
What I had been cursing ere, is for what I was crying
Running in road I ain’t known, alone,
Torture devils methinks — are my guardian angels, realising then,
Sunken in rain, doomed life — in one pass of cloud
The fall, could I sever my tears and rain?!
running in road, drenched, yet thirsty,
My spine frore afeared, I could fall in ambuscade,
The place I dispraised, that I wished to leave
Was my heaven in truth, I realised then mooncalf I was,
The very fabric of my bane heart, torn asunder,
The darkness filling my eyes I behold, that something billowed,
Dight with doit?! — not even hope,
Hopeless, perhaps I might got end up with rags and pigs,
It went to night, when I found a light yonder,
Did I ran, or did I flied or did I jumped to,
That bedlam, there was a house across a meadow,
A woman, quoth she, waited until, my tears and rain stoped,
The woman portaged me back to my place,
Back to the arms of my guardian angel — the warmth,
The clouds cleared, no more haunting, in my eyes — my guardian angels!

— The End —