It will take me aeons,
To again grow and bloom
For so ruthlessly you plundered my plume,
That what remains is a hovering gloom.
And may be I just never bloom.

I make home in hearts
Always with a cautious start
Then carefree I dwell
Attached to all sentience
Verily believing all that is portrayed.

But now I am a broken thread ,
Lying in shreds
Next to the dead,
Of a rosary shattered
Its beads all scattered.

I was perforated when bullet pierced chests
I was burnt in houses set ablaze
I was desecrated in the holy place vandalized,
I was smouldered in the books set aflame
I drowned in the shrieks for help.

And now a lifetime is less
For me to incarnate
And thread the beads once again
To find a home in loving hearts,
Or wait for a miracle to change fate.

7 thoughts on “Trust

  1. amitapaul

    A moving description of a painful predicament which is , alas, being experienced by more and more people in a vitiated social environment worldwide


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