SAMRIDDHI RAJ - POEMS
The trees dislodged the leaves off their branches.
The wind turned cold.
The clock rotated like a merry go round.
The corpse on the couch gazed at a mystical screen.
Screen with flashes of beauty.
The corpse was a living man.
Breathing away each day to reach its end.
The scene on the screen flashed a smiling beauty.
A woman with glitzy eyes and flowing hair.
Mr. Malik gulped down spit.
His dry throat ached.
The woman embraced a snake.
Snake that traced her skin and curled around her neck to choke her.
Snake that bit her neck
to infect its venom.
Mr. Malik longed for such poison.
The morgue where he was locked
now felt the cold wind.
Coughs interrupted his breathing now and then.
Mr. Malik switched off the screen.
His weary eyes closed.
His right palm picked an executioner
and shot him at his head.
Breeze rushed out of the morgue.
The trees were stark bare.
The man ceased to breathe.
Humble Monday Morning