Submissions open for Wingword Poetry Prize 2020

The Burning Dream

Jahnavi Gupta 

A world shattered, foundationed on disbelief
On forgotten deed and barren fields.
No creation, No end
A quest for something
Something it screams.

Who then can you ask
what the word means.
No lines to fill, not even a thing
What persist beyond that
Anger or dream.

A seething fire inspires a shiver
That burns the very being.
Not broken to be imagined
Nor sustained to be built.
Cause or reason,
Where do I even begin.

A self-loathed legacy
Throned only in ignorance.
Rises to claim its dreams of smoke
With only ash to show.
No ripple could you make
In the face of your own scream.

And yet
I saw the spark
I saw the blazing rage.
I saw the volcano to erupt
Only burning on its mind!

Not pain nor fear did it ever know
It burnt all dreams alike.
Except its own of fire might
All things ceased
All sounds were still.

Only light, only light
Would be allowed to remain.


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