By: Neelam Singh

The night falls
Upon my deprived grief-stricken soul
Every soul retires for the night, my pretense of rest still lies abound
Turmoil of emotions swells up like waves
What to do, what will I see next?
Lay me down to sleep,
My soul wanders, withers and wades moments of my heart

The early morning rays offer hope for the day
Wounded, broken and bleeding
Collecting my fragments of life,
I wake up
Another day, another battle.
Hushed internal battles, I battle all day
Sleepless nights, pretense mornings,

Intense travail
Unable to state
My internal being is fading
The curtains seem to be falling
Life’s walls are crumbling
The world outside is bustling
My battle continues
My soul is caving in
And I am trapped within