"All
our screams of suffering
And
cries out of pain
As
if the uncertainty over self has
Consumed
us inside out
Soon
turns into a noise, unbearable
As
if thrown into a mute and deaf crowd
Deprived
off our solitude
Made
to laugh off our tears
Which
threatens to wash away
Our
very existence
We
crave for a little of silence
No
matter how chaotic
For
it feels home to be buried
Beneath
our vulnerable longing for gloom
A
castle made of our fallen pieces
a
grave where we are born and again
For
where else we could soothe
The
scars we tend so savagely, Alas!"
Praveen
Parasar
22/04/2017
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