In my heart there lies a well
A vast receptacle of every story
That has ever been told.
Within my body there exists a hero--
Though her voice is very nearly buried
Beneath layers and layers of forced normalcy.
The sun’s rays blaze against my closed eyelids.
My sins have burned to ash on Kali’s pyre.
Sainthood is yet a long way off.
Beneath my feet is a burial ground
Containing the bodies of all who have lived and died pointlessly.
They hover over our shoulders as we take to the streets
To protest yet another cause doomed to failure.
Our throats are torn with righteous screams
As righteous tears pour from our eyes.
Our unspoken hope is that one day these very same tears
Might create a wave powerful enough
To make people stand up and care.
Until then, loneliness is our only prayer.
I believe we cannot wait forever.
This is just another cause doomed to be struck down.
The flames of the dying fires of our spirits
Leap and jump in my pupils.
In my mind’s ear I can hear birdsongs.
The newly freed eagle’s wings part the veils
To a world beyond our comprehension.
I stand by yet another empty cage
Wondering how anything I do
Could ever be enough.
| 
Email this Poetry
| 
Add to reading list
