By Priya Ponugoti
She is the only inevitable.
Into her, we all one day stumble.
The dark princess of the universe,
commanding the paths of adverse.
Some invite her and some ignore her.
But only her WILL makes the time blur.
From the graves of the forest she smiles,
tugging their hearts into files.
Strongest or weakest are those
for her crushing embrace; they chose.
Is it strength in accepting the oblivion?
Or weakness in rejecting this pavilion?
When the hands of my clock are tired,
hope on the Aladdin’s carpet she’s hired.
To fly through the clouds of memories,
and breathe once again in those stories.