Monday, June 10, 2019

Glory Sasikala writes


Leave it.
The game of love burns!
In the encroaching space
Of that hut
A storm within and without
The wick turned low
Casting ominous shadows

The tongues of flame
Disguised as they are
As your lily-white purity
Your pristine virginity
Your baffling innocence.
Your eyes so dark
And all too big for your face.

I keep against the wall
Against the dancing shadows
Just out of reach
Of those flicking arrows -
But your freed soul
Is a forest fire
Burning all
Only aware of your own desire -
Child-like, reaching out
Enveloping, engulfing.

I cannot escape.
Hovering now on the brink
Of Life and Death
A bright light beckons
Light without heat
Benign, well-known shadows
Welcome. I smile
A gentle smile and give up.
And give in
To the all-consuming lethargy.
The flame flickers
One last time
And dies……..


My soul, a thread of white smoke.
The Sunrise now
The Hand
That lights my pyre.
Candle Dancers -- Emil Nolde

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