End of the Body….
At least you need
Four to carry.

I sit in darkness,
hiding my pain,
in regions of sorrow,
my thoughts remain.
Torrents of tears,
run down my face.
as I search for comfort,
In a warm embrace.

A thousand thought,
Is cruising my mind.
enduring pain,
of every kind.
Soulless shadows,
Are blocking my way.
I try to resist,
But they push me away.

From the heart of darkness,
I cry out loud.
My feeble voice,
Is lost in the crowd.
I’m losing my mind,
While longing to stay.
My helpless soul,
Is slipping away.

Everyone's everywhere,  
Always busy, rushing by,  
In the end, nobody.

In a garden kissed by the morning dew,
A rosebud dreams, its petals few.
Wrapped in green, held tight and low,
It longs to bloom, but fears to grow.

The sun shines bright, a guiding light,
“Rise and shine, embrace your fight!”
But the earth holds firm, the roots dig deep,
Each sip a struggle, each step to leap.

The wind whispers soft, “You’ve got this, just wait,
Break the chains, embrace your fate.”
But doubt sneaks in, whispers of fear,
“Will I bloom? Will I appear?”

Through stormy nights and endless trials,
The rosebud fights, mile by mile.
Each thorn a victory, each tear a sign,
Of a journey hard, yet purely divine.

Then one day, with gentle grace,
The bud breaks free, reveals its face.
Petals unfold, in vibrant hue,
A story of strength, in colors true.

For in every struggle, beauty’s born,
A rose that blooms, from dusk till dawn.
And all who witness, all who see,
Find hope in how this rose came to be.

©Priyanka Bhagat

they've all become so desensitized,
drinking their coffee and watching people die.
and some part of the world
preaches values of kindness and peace,
but the weapons they've sold
are used every day to take lives of kids.
and they don't see the irony
of protecting borders, from what exactly?
when even survivors are getting tired,
when there's no hell deeper down, yet we still continue descending,
when every next morning comes with a list of names, lost to the fire,
they all would rather pretend it's a fiction,
                         a story,
                                       a lie,
drinking their coffee and watching people die.