When Poetry Arrives

Sticky

fountain pen on text sheet paper with rose

(Photo-Thinkstock)

I found it coming,

In the pitch-black numbness creeping in,
Silencing vague groans inside.
Sweating and fretting,
It stood there,
In the cul-de-sac of muddled thoughts,
For that one final gaze.

Then it fell,
Like the first rain drop,
Into my cavernous cracks,
Coaxing the dried up soul,
Taming my twisted tantrums,
Tying broken love chords,
That echoed bits of panicled past.

Like a smile, unfading,
It sprinkled ceaseless joy,
And let me breathe,
Soothing streaks of poetry.

Now I’m breathing,
Yet again.

~Nila

Chained

Standard

Beneath the starry sky,

Here she lies,

The land chained

By spittle of the raging sea.

Like a slave, crestfallen,

For escape is just a dream,

Imprisoned in the impending doom.

A patient wait,

For the day,

Her waist will be grabbed,

And his thirst will be quenched.

The day,

He will take her in,

With a single guzzle,

Without stopping to breathe.

The day,

She will hide in oblivion

And sleep forever.

~Nila Lenin

Shadow

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A shadow, you were,

Following me everywhere.

You came in the light,

Breaking my lonely fright,

And left in the dark,

Effacing the only mark.

Now, can you see,

A part of me,

More lonely than I used to be ?

~Nila

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