Reflections

No more mirrors exist

to complicate or communicate,

Memories of crystalline, icy shards

disappear as each slices through

a dying nerve,

where cold, sluggish blood flows still;

Each step a march against itself

and thoughts crowd a sleeping mind:

the first wind of february spring,

that overrated kiss in the rain,

coveted hugs that remain incomplete,

and those daily trips to a world of pain;

these thoughts and more crowd,

jostling each other for space

as if the sleeping mind were a tiny room

closing in upon itself,

rooting to lose something

it took years to build;

Destroyed blocks remain estranged

waiting to be called to life

by a sluggish vein–

A successful play at last;

A glint of steel:

It's uncomplicated.

©Geetakshi Arora

February 20, 2014

Wasted Flames

Burning in anguish,

it awaits its time;

A beggar yearns for food

for years before it dies;

Fake water is never enough,

It is but a reflection

of tattered hearts

that astound none but

the fated face looking outside;

Royal mansions are unworthy of souls 

that yearn for butterflies

and green caterpillars on yellow leaves;

The fire sweeps away everything,

consuming itself in a flame that used to be burnished gold:

It is a mere dyed orange now;

Now it is polluted with grey soot 

from burning bones;

Mere charcoal,

mere memories:

Dispensable;

Forgotten

©Geetakshi Arora

February 9, 2014