Arun Chullikkal
Newage sys solutions
A Tremor
A tremor
Beneath the core
Of my heart
Rushes.
Dragging every spot
Of blood,
To an undefined heap of
Ash and dust.
“Scripture closes:
Ash to ash
Dust to dust”
Scattered, a heat beat
A breathe
A choke, finally
A hushed walk on
No existence;
I have but, a
Fetching hand
Unto the creator
Imploring
A sky to
Escape
"We are tired;
But
We are not beaten"
When the hope is over
A smile exists,
Ahead of a
A hidden pain