Friday, February 20, 2015

204 . Lullaby

The gifts that seemed to charm me 
Smoothers me like a serpant today
The pen that poured out thought
Stifles and freezes as if cold.
The voice does rise

But Alas! It seem like a weapon
Striking to shred me into pieces
With a curse For me in every note
And I have none to blame
This lullaby is scripted by me alone.


Binita Jha

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