The Death Of A Poet…

Enslaved in the fetters;
She popped off –
Every time she tried to gasp;
Her springy lungs collapsed –
Into many fragile crumbs,
The wind pipe curtailed –
Curbing the air, to get inside her
And let the numb soul revive again…

She was, a belle of innocence
Dangling baffled, in an intricate net –
This nipped her, with vigor;
Lynching her desires,
Lazing the requires
And ceasing all that aspires…

Fighting with the doom,
She bushed her might;
Turned into rebellion,
Yelled, bawled and flouted
But all in futile,
For she was –
But a, sheer fall…

Standing stumped,
At the same junction –
Of that puzzled divergence,
She broke into tears;
With a soul so fraught,
A mind too wrought,
And a heart, that’s slot…

Like a lost voyager
In the intense silence of night;
She was gone a strayed –
In the cluster of her thoughts,
A chronicle of memoirs –
Those esteemed writings in her hands,
The pen, pencils and all the sheets;
Scattered around was her asset, BUT –
Lost were the words, the lyrics and rhymes…

Gawking with hollow eyes,
At the blank pages, she sobbed
Her nerves felt the throb,
The heart missed a beat,
The soul surpassed a breathe
And she was shattered into chips –
Those stretched on the cold floor;
For she realized, moment of cessation
The poet of her inside died;
Profession won the battle –
Passion puffed away;
Leaving behind a lifeless lump –
Of rotten flesh, weaken bones and no spirit…



7 thoughts on “The Death Of A Poet…

  1. Your words are a reflection of your love, your spirit, your kindness your heart and soul, will and shall always be a treasured gem, enjoy the happiness that you share for it will always blossom in others and multiply back to you. Always be you and only you, that is the real person we love. God bless!

  2. I think you expressed that single moment in time when you felt the poets death so brilliantly. I love people who can do that. I love describing moments myself so I can relate it to it totally. Good job!

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