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Of life and healing



Of life and healing


Maybe I can see the butterflies fleet,

A ray of hope with them;

For the dull paths are blooming with blossoms now.

To escape from little cocoon of facts and phobias

To feel me,

To heal me,

I crave for touch, a sense.

That leads to glory and peace

A stretch of hope,

of assurance

From road of darkness to light,

The palms of their hands over my wrist,

In a blurred vision

I caress the myths,

Of tantrums and dusted minds

To see the shallow thoughts-

Stirred in a bottle.

I’m the thriller, a mystery,

A fictional string with a knot,

Around my fingers,

Playing cats cradle over life and death,

Cascading red on my left hand and sheets,

I’m a living nightmare ready to heal,

From affliction and anguish


(Now read from bottom to top)

-Rachel Fernandes.

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