Anoucheka Gangabissoon is a Primary School Educator in Mauritius. She writes poetry and short stories as hobby. She considers writing to be the meaning of her life as she has always been influenced by all the great writers and wishes to be, like them, immortalized in her words. Her works can be read on poetrysoup.com and she had also appeared in various literary magazines like SETU, Different Truths, Dissident Voice. She has also been published in Duane’s Poetree and also in an anthology for the Immagine and Poesia group. Her poems are often placed in free online contests. Surrender The blood drizzled down my lips And caused me to have a sudden intake of breath Why, I even wiped my eyes with the back of my hand And bid My aching heart To calm down And surrender to the joys of lightness! With a frown furrowed on my forehead I began to wonder At the essence of that which I considered as being pain! Pray, if I do have a sound health If I do have functioning limbs If I do have all the time I need If I do have the means to live decently Why should I even dare to consider myself As being someone in pain? The shadows that life bestow upon us Are merely the reactions of our bad actions We are meant to suffer the consequences of our fall Like the rabbit we shall be feel preyed all the time Like the lion we shall be hungry all the time Like the horse we shall have to toil all the time Pray, should we aspire higher positions And a fair existence We are to abide to everything Yes, we are to accept pain Merge with it And make it a part of ourselves! So, I chose to clean my face And, wearing a smile I bid Life To show me how to be less selfish And how to help her instead! The knaves of Death If I had to watch Death in the face As It would snatch a loved one from me Pray I am sure I would have felt helpless And powerless Faced with Death We become mere knaves Knaves of life Knaves of existence Knaves, believing ourselves So mighty and bold Yet, knaves Being, in the end Chained to a miserable plane! Why, life has been given to us As said by some As a gift But then, Why do we be if only we are Meant to face Death? Pray, of my aim have I made To conquer Death Be it through my poetry Or be it through spirituality I shall conquer it And then I shall have the whole of humanity Safe, in a haven Which shall be kept protected From Death! Who knows? Weakened, maybe Death itself Would want to form part of my community As a neutral member of course! In my Imagination There is, in my imagination A scenery filled with mystery Relying on my sacred faith I let it fill my every breath Being a mere mortal soul With no more than a cruel call I rest on patience While enjoying a lonely dance And though my faith spells my fortune I live my present in scary moody mixture Somewhere in this world Is hidden the essence of the Great Lord And I did make of my aim The quest of searching for His name Though he is very much in fame To wars and selfishness his followers came And what if I let go of my scenery Would that not lead me to my death Would that not make of my stand One worthy as that of a blinded hand!
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