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The transient youth
November 15, 2021
"I screech
aimless cries,
in dwindling mercurial
highs,
looking up at the starry night
escorts me into a
heavy sigh,
Is it me? or another cryptic decline,
a deranged silence
hovering before my eyes,
I never longed for growth
not of age,
nor my sanity,
for I always was
a child,
for I still forever be,
a soul free of sense
and
a soul free of reality,
I shall always be chained
to myself,
and forever must be,
but now these rusty chains,
hold a soul long astray,
for she was always
an infant dreaming of the beyond,
a dream to lift
the lively world,
of a trickster charm."
© Riya R., Ahmedabad, Other
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