The Inert

The room so dark, black and silent,

Seemed the night’s fighting with the empty

Rooms of thought, persistence and prevalence,

As the depth enmeshed sufferings and pains.

The palette of darkness, poised and poisoned;

I lit the candle with the friction of matchstick,

In a fraction of second, the moment on  the fulcrum---

The room looked glorified, bright and better.

The sigh of relief relaxed on my breathes,

My heart counted each and every beat,

The coldness of the stress runs through my spine,

My eyes shone in light. I still fight. And I strive.

I heard the drums of death drooling,

And I shut my eyes to recover,

I sense the reconciliation of my soul and brain,

No urge, no wish, no heart or pain.

Salty droplets adore my eyes,

I want to cry, shout and scream...

I found the candle melting wax,

Light above, beneath is the dark,

I stared to see the melting truth...

Hot, liquefied watery flows,

Hardened by the life and flaws,

Colour or colourless contoured life,

My soul left me, just body was alive.

“‘I’ die... ‘I’ die...”, I prayed within me.

My mourning moan steals my faith,

I carry the blood and germ – ‘’Society’’

And I was left alone on the wheelchair of time,

Awaiting for a hand  to travel helpless.