A Tear Speaks...
I indira babbellapati
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Sorrow at times builds
an impenetrable rocky fort
around body and heart;
I grope in vain for a narrow
crack at least that allows
a slight air passage to relieve
the humid congestion gathered
on a sky of unproductive clouds
of varying shades of black
to grey... but what really
stays put in this ever lasting
transient nature of life...
won't a whirlwind,
won't a hurricane unleash
to render the fort into
uncountable rocks and pebbles?
But what if each part
of the debris still carried
the ageless me in itself?
Tell me...
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