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Isha Anand Poem
THE CLOCK STRUCK TWELVE; THE AIR GREW STILL, A GIRL AT HER DESK, DEFYING HER WILL.
HER PENCIL MOVED, THOUGH HER HANDS WERE WEAK, WHAT TRUTH SHE HID, NONE DARED TO SEEK.
TEARS KISSED HER CHEEK, BUT HER EYES HELD FIRE, EACH LINE SHE WROTE WHISPERED OF DESIRE. WHY DID SHE FIGHT? WHAT DROVE HER SO? A SECRET ONLY THE MOON COULD KNOW.
WHEN MORNING CAME, THE ROOM LAY BARE, BUT ECHOES OF TRIUMPH LINGERED THERE.
WHO WAS SHE? THE WORLD MAY NEVER FIND-A FLEETING SHADOW, A FEARLESS MIND.
"In the stillness of night, she found her strength proving that shadows, too, can glow with purpose"
Copyright © Isha Anand | Year Posted 2025
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