Friday 22 September 2017

My last journey

by Sheena Singh

It rained last night
the smell of wet soil
stuck to my nostrils;
as I lay amidst my folks…

Stuffed in a glass coffin
No more aches,
Nor heart breaks
On my embalmed body…

I’ve turned cold
to the world outside,
Just few minutes away
from my final journey…

The East wind just blew
my head side lamp;
fragrance of sandal
lingering all around…

The white cotton sheet
Falling off my toes
It's cold outside
Cover my toes please.

My voice choked
as I called them;
my dears and nears
weeping in corners…

My golden streaks
Crumbled on the floor…
Let me comb those
Show me the mirror please.

My stern puffy eyelids
refused to budge
The cool sea breeze
Ripped my lips apart...

Alas! They called my name
For, the pyre is being set…
The wait is finally over
for me to embrace fire…

No comments:

Post a Comment