Grief
written by: Shreya Sharma
Grief is waterlike
A lachrymose vessel that drips,
a waterfall.
It gradually slips off your skin,
ascends in the form of a single wave of thought
and flows unto your chest.
There, it takes a whole life like a tsunami,
penetrates the inside of the veins
and builds a home of itself, uninvited.
Grief sits unsettled on your mind
as a bar of soap on your skin,
steals its stillness and brings flames.
A shred of my leafy heart cut in pieces.
My heart responds to the grief
what a sapling does to abrupt winds.
It flattens itself, stands firm.
My heart coils itself
and my arms roll themselves to the centre of my heart,
there it strikes a tap. A peaceful tap.
Peace. And falls asleep.
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