A deviant eeriness entraps me

Unable to comprehend

I struggle to free myself

But in vain

I search for my armaments-

In the house, in the attic

In the courtyard

In the kitchen

I check my chest of drawers

I rummage through my books

I run wildly around

But my armor, it’s nowhere to be found

I hop on the trees

I question the birds

Even butterflies and flowers

Offer no reprieve

I gaze the moon, the sun and the sky

I drench in the rain; I dip in the sea

I hike the steep peaks

But no one reveals

So I turn to you for assistance

I seek your advice

I am a writer,

I need words to survive

I’ve been hunting for them

But they seem to have eluded me

Manacled, wounded and distressed I feel

Do you think you can rescue me?

Have you seen my repertoire?

Have you noticed my words fly by?

My thoughts and emotions are asphyxiating me

My wealth of words, have you seen it flee?

©Vandana Bhasin