Nishita Choudhary | + Follow Poet |
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The Glorifying Hours of Sadness

The pages laid beneath her
With imprints of her shed smiles
Cause they are still laughing in the grey flashes
But nobody halts the time ,it just dashes.

Now, the flickering candles dry up her wet lashes
And The womb recurres the old staches 
Pain emerges again from the phoenix ashes
Burning the righteous until the slumber bashes

The bridge holding her above the currents of dejection
Has weakened over the course of self rejections 
Causing her happiness to be crucified
And The crippled emotions have her paralyzed

The slacked chains are now what are draping around her
Wiping the records of her innocence 's demise
Her vitals and virtues both compromised
And she blamed it on herself rather than those grinning resides

Those dawned bruises bleed until the dusk 
Oozing out of her ,was the purple rain
Scars settled on the poisoned frames
That she gained when she was one of their tames

The eyes gushes the sins of the past
And she rests in her burrow as an outcast
Scaring the paper with verses so deprived of love
Everyone gawk at her cause she is the red fallen dove

The dizzying scent of the distress wandering
Enough to grab the remaining peace
The hovering clouds of insecurities
Had carried away the ancient cities

The wrath of reality aches to the core
The decaying remains of her are floating off the shore
After their enormously twisted waves had wrapped her boat
She refugied in the ocean boiling with the fire coat

Her embodied weapons of power,
The dark storms have them rusted
Those perpetrators turned out to be the one she trusted
And the massacre has unveiled the quest of secrets 

The angel numbers pass by casting her demon
She is dead awake fabricating the revenge plan?
She is on her way to unmask their fall?

Copyright © Nishita Choudhary | Year Posted 2023

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