Friday, February 11, 2011

withering rose by basaria ahayanutheen

last night, as i thought of a woman in a crisis, the poet in me came alive. i wrote a poem dedicated to her and quickly jotted the gist in this blog so that i wouldn't lose the trail of words. this afternoon, i refined it and submitted to for publishing.

the beauty of it all is that words flowed word by word which made it special to me.

withering rose by basaria ahayanutheen

i closed my eyes
staring into the darkness
I saw myself
smiling and laughing
enjoying the silky touch of free air
the image snapped away
i saw my wrinkled self
imprisoned in a dark cell of divine unity

what is left of oneself
when all is ripped off
nothing but nakedness
every juice and blood were sucked out
leaving nothing
but a whimpering self
smothering the pain
like a withering rose

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