By Soyam kaur
Thin lines etched to convey my impending time,
fate becoming inevitable as the stars align.
Around me-nothing,
nothing but the walls of iron glass,
swallowed deep inside by a grey overcast.
“Lady!” they say, “Watch how your trial proceeds,”
hearing the saint listing each one of my misdeeds.
“So amiable you were, so gentle and humane-
what happened to you? Who brought you such shame?”
“Mortals!” I exclaimed-
each one cunningly untamed.
‘Smile,’ they say, as they pierce in the gold daggers,
‘Be obedient, silent,’ they order. ‘This must continue in the latter.’
“Then?” the court asked.
“Then,” I answered, “I met the devil at last.
Desirable dreams he made me witness come alive-
and that is how the new me was revived.”
“Remorse is what you should feel,” they summed.
“Never,” I stated, “for I had become comfortably numb.”
Death was the decision on which they arrived.
How foolish,” I laughed, “I was never alive.”