Page 9 - Reflectoem Magazine Issue 06
P. 9

"Words from the last page"

                   Vinod Narayanan

                   Kerala, Trivandrum

                Day's passed without knowing the sun rise.
                Night crafted ephialtes to accompany me and fright away the sleep.

                Feel of life is lost somewhere deep inside, now I merely exist.

                used to talk with birds, kittens and friends, most importantly to my spirit.
                But the spirit is long dead and this body is just a grave.

                Can only sit in a chair to look the leaves through my Windows,
                Sometimes they talk to me when pushed by their lover wind.

                Have you seen a bloomed flower where poets used to describe and lovers see to
                Neither of them will notice the same flower when it falls and decay.

                For whom I have to blame! Nature?

                for taking away my teeth, strength and sight to give me wringle skin and silver
                or shall I scold myself for becoming old.

                Before I am free from this prison called body, want to meet the person who
                writes this words the being only I beleive. My conscience!

                Every day I rise with a hope that kind death may embrace me this day.
                The only reward I can get.
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