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An evocative poem that searches for the final peace, by Dr. Gita, exclusively for Different Truths.
Proliferated vibes of me,
Now need to be shrunken down,
Unfold me,
A call for folding down,
It’s essential for a confinement in my room,
Necessary to swipe myself from around,
Why I stepped out, I was fine in my own gloom,
In the mountain’s shade,
In the graveyard’s bed,
Some silence is desired,
Where emotions do not whisper,
Where past never comes over,
Birds never chatter,
Rains never shower,
Complete silence for hours and hours,
That would be better,
Nothing anymore would shatter,
When sky looks down being quieter,
On its mouth keeping a finger,
Here moon is banned,
Its light is stained,
Where nights are frozen,
And days live in dungeon,
Evenings would be just random with suffocation,
And mornings never come,
I need a white bed of silence,
That’s my favorite place,
Where I shed and solace,
Some white orchids in the vase,
Fragrance not needed, it creates noise,
Deep breaths come in fractions,
Can’t handle so much retractions,
I’m drowning in, in my bathtub,
Till the white candles are on,
Please pull the cotton,
Till I’m done,
Or till I’m none.
Photo from the Internet
