A drumbeat goes on in the head
and a nagging slow wailing of mourners
humming in my blood vessels
there's a burial in my head
I see the sound of silence as your face moves
swinging in the motion of the coffin carried by men
your feet, pale and dark, outside that white shroud, familiar!
as I sit beside the fireplace, sipping wine
I don't see you standing behind the curtain
watching over me
you were not there yesterday
even today you are not there
and I wish you would go away
that crawling shadow
and a sudden chill in the room
you were not there yesterday
Again today you are not there
and I wish you would go away
a strange silhouette taking shape, like yours
a sudden stench of death in the room
and I struggle to peep into your eyes in the darkness,
to check
whether they hold the same shock
like that day
when I lightly pushed you to death from the terrace floor.
1 comment:
Gripping poem!
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