Priya Chouhan
A soft whiff of air knocking at my window,
table of good thoughts turned over.
An effort to sew the wound of past,
the mask fell off, eyes betraying heartache.
Gloom blocking the view of silence,
mind forgot to think of angels, other than you.
Fireworks celebrating my loss,
popping strip of dreadful signs(of her incoming demise) , witnessing the tragedy.
Painful cuts on the face, skin heavily bleeding,
the mask saves me every time.
Night terror is what I possess,
the window broke down.
An effort – – – – – – heartache!
