I am a child born amidst fire;
shattering echoes that send sharp sensations
through my ears, and the blankness of what’s happening,
mostly, marks my identity.
My eyes, accustomed to fire and smoke,
my ears, I mentioned earlier,
my mouth, slightly open, I fail to contain
all my illusions, deceptions ---let my mouth
breathe it out little by little
as I feel a bit like nausea for being
filled with so many pointless trickeries.
Before I eat, customarily, I look out, up, sideways,
then I think, maybe I will finish my food.
Sometimes I wish if I could just see
those familiar faces that had fled from here,
I know not to where, they say they drowned,
caught up in firings, are starving somewhere;
I miss my little brother, even though I am spared
from that constant worrying over him, like my parents---
but they still have to worry, because I am alive!
successful written
ReplyDeletegood luck!
Not sure your piece is directly falling in line with this week s theme....
ReplyDeleteThank you Abhra....I know what I missed...
DeleteSuch a universal story.. all that knowledge you lack when separated. Such sadness and the scars you see.
ReplyDeleteIf our journey is different, less blessed, walking amidst the fire and ruins, it would be very challenging indeed ~ To be alive and worrying to live is very difficult balancing act ~
ReplyDeleteThanks for joining us Sreeja ~ Always good to see you linking up with D'verse ~
This is quite poignant, Sreeja! Sometimes we do wish we could see those faces from the past!
ReplyDeleteExcellent write :D
ReplyDeleteLife becomes
ReplyDeletehell where there
is only fear.. and
worry.. wHere Love
can find no room.. but
sorrow.. with sorrow even
leaving in dark so cold..
Where there is Love
there is fortune
where
not
cold
just
cOld...