Prisoner



Prisoner to a person
Inside a silver cage
With a golden key as a barricade .
Was set free like the never ending  sky with no boundaries
Yet , the dark rimmed space think it's a mirage of visionary
The nightfall brings the creased pearl alive
Asking to go ,high above the sky
To Play with the sprawled diamonds in the murky dice
But, The dark velvet screen will not fade,until the next sunrise.
Making me wonder ,if I'll be caged once again.
-Rishali Richard

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Twenty-one days

Image
//Twenty one days  I see gates and doors closed  Most inside secure and safe  Some out guarding the nation  Some out treating the occasion Bounded by duty  I see them leave their house  Blinded with uncertainty and love While some wait for their loved ones to return back home  While some don't have a home . A raging war against hunger  Something more severe than the disease itself , Scattered grounds watered with sins  Some say it's the anger of God  Some say it's a plot of humans plan. Like the waves meeting the shore  I wish to return back home  Where there is a sense of belonging and purity , Unknowingly we all are trying to not get caught in the fishnet, Trapping us until we can't breathe, I look at my hands wondering how many times  I have let go of the chances  To hold people dear to me Flashing placards with "I take you for granted " Now regretting , all we have is a one way ticket...
Read more

Nanki-Guilty

Image
TRIGGER WARNING . Nanki-Guilty //Why is the wound still open ?. Just like yesterday  The day before that and so on The dynamics of power and pain , I rub salt in it  Now and then  Just to keep the wound and pain there  Afraid what if it fades  And your hands starts rubbing my body  up and down  To show your power  Over someone fragile. My nerves curve having a sight of you  Near me , a bit too close  For my liking , You hush me saying I'm a troubled child  To have such creativity something is wrong in my brain  You say I exaggerate cause that's how I write  But why don't you talk about that night  When I remained still as a statue  Scared about to be broken  In the hands of the vile  Screaming and thrashing to stop the pain,  While you sabatoged me Leaving me to pick the remains  Ordering me to keep it a secret  Our secret  About how I turned out to b...
Read more

Being a Voice.

Image
We bleed ,we breathe,We fall ,we fly. Learning that sky is not the limit Looking down,is the only sight. Painting it with pinks and blues , That's when genders came into light. We speak ,we scream.To make it our right.  When Looks and cooks became priority. Books became our morality. I feel, I fear,I say the right time is near. Deep down I know it's far,To fit into the radar. So, I take a step ahead  To give voices for hushed whispers hanging on a thin thread. -Rishali Richard.
Read more