Sitting silently in the corner of a locked box
Shackled, tortured;
And Burdened with guilt.
Broken by the
Intricacies of life.
Shaken by
Extreme plights.
Stolen by forces unknown.

It did try best to keep itself intact
On those rosy pink lips,
They look beautiful with it,
The world said.

It now awaits,
a miracle;
Awaits a presence
That will
free it from those steel ropes.
And give it an entirely new meaning.
It looks at that little ray of light
That will help it;
To again dance on those
Sometimes parted,
Sometimes joined
Yet inseparable beauties.

Life is nothing
It thought;
But a dead soul
Captured in a moving body
A mere meaningless existence,
Without that one little touch of it;
That holds the power
To win over everything it touches.

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    Tattooed Mind said...

    Very well written, Richa :)

  1. ... on 14 April 2013 at 00:01  
  2. Rebellious Submission said...

    Thnks dear..:)

  3. ... on 14 April 2013 at 17:02  
  4. Prithvi said...

    Then one day that amazing feat,
    when a tiny sapling small and weak,
    enters silently with hope of a meek,
    into the mighty strong heart of concrete,

  5. ... on 18 April 2013 at 23:13  
  6. Rebellious Submission said...

    Well....I am still waiting for this to happen....Seems impossible now though..

  7. ... on 23 April 2013 at 23:04