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
I know the feeling of losing my words. Then my mind tells me that if I have patience, my words will return. Then I find I have lost patience as well? Now what? Nicely expressed
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This is exquisitely expressed and is so relatable.
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I can totally understand. At times we lose patience to wait for words to come back. But ultimately patience only paved the way to words, isn’t it? Thanks for sharing your views. I’m glad my words resonated with you 😊
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Thank you Jamila. I’m glad you liked it 😊
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