Y Chumbenthung Ngullie Poet Rhyme

Breath of the Wretched

For the pen refuses to write;
Even struggling doesn’t seem right.
And for all one cares, I see no light—
Yet these legs walk, fortnight after fortnight.

However strong one’s mind seems,
At unending, nerve-wrecking scenes it dims.
For all supports appear blurry, even strong beams,
Striking uneasiness and swaying wherever the path leans.

But breath goes on—uncaring and unfeeling,
Offering no remorse, no solution, not a thing.
Every rotation carries its own unsorted fling,
Yet breath goes on for this wretched being.

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