By Ananya Gupta
’The Broken wings’
Don’t want to be seen,
don’t want to be heard;
The “tragic swan” has aspired the duck.
To turning and churning herself;
to be miraculously beautiful,
“Yet impressionable lunatic and sorrowful.”
Her vengeance is something;
which pushed her so far;
Trapped in a see through cage;
full of scars.
Her never ending suffocation;
the nerve wrecking humilation;
Distorted her mind into gazillions of
dimensions.
The smallest of ripples,
which covered her with cuts and bruises;
The “infinite compassion” she holds;
feels abuse from the collective gazes.
The maniac herself;
she carries everyday,
Becomes the beget of judgments everyone
says.
The paranoid soul she has;
is a spectacle on display,
“The dazzling sunshine in her fades away.”
Master peice