An evocative poem by Lily. She talks of fears here.
Fears perched like petrified flies on a jaggery heap
Fears like the whirlpool
In a muddy monsoon puddle
Choking thrashing Mephistopheles like fears
Chilling icicles of protruding
Needle sharp fears
Hanging like nooses from prison ceilings 
Soul crushing bone shattering
Hammers of fears
Robbing dawn of its peachy bloom
Stamping on petals of
The dusky rose
Halting streams that gurgle
on high
Gagging the nightingale’s
Mellifluous chant
Stealing the thunder from
The lightning struck sky
Fears that feast on my 
Gullible soul
Fears that pole vault like
Sergey Bubka
Striding the universe of
My sanctum sanctorum
You my fears are only fears
And I, my dear, fear no fears!
©Lily Swarn
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Lily Swarn is a gold medallist and a double university colour holder from Panjab University. She has authored, A Trellis of Ecstasy (poetry), Lilies of the Valley (essays), The Gypsy Trail (novel). A multilingual poet, writer and columnist, her poems have been translated into 13 languages. A radio show host and Emcee, she received World Icon of Peace, Chandigarh Icon Award, Woman of Substance, World Icon of Literature and several other prestigious awards.
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