It’s a night decorated
with clouds that bring
myriad hopes for rain.
I see the Moon.
Who will see my pain?
I travelled through miserable caves,
through destinations unheard.
I prayed
all that my wisdom revered.
Alas! The castle of love has fallen.
The glory and glee bite the dust. It begins;
the rain – bathed in the fragrance of my subversion!
I am the debris of myself.
I am all that remains.
by alok mishra
for all those who are left with themselves…