Tuesday, March 26, 2019

Gopal Lahiri writes

I stand, start moving, play alone in the dark
Now they come, they want to interrogate me,
I listen to them in the shadows of exile,

So they talk to me long enough, tear me apart for sure
Then they leave silently, keeping their fingers crossed,
Darkness lingers in my broken bone, in damaged eyes.

Knowing a slice of my destiny hidden there,
But I never reach across a galaxy,
Never hold raging storm or tsunami in my hand.

Just think of the day, no one knows
I have kept some fire sticks in my diary pages,
for stitching allegory to mask my fear.

Sometimes grey clouds witness my struggle,
always I wish stars would fall as rain and
burn in silence on my feather bed.

Then I wait and wait for some more time
I know that destinies are star-crossed but
Not for long, not reaching there ever.
Image result for interrogators paintings
Interrogation II -- Leon Golub  

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