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  • Vishvaraj Chauhan

Cemented

The night pours its dark ink, Onto the blank canvas of my day, Peace scampers in a blink, As I gaze through the grey.

I fear the past aghast, And wish for a pleasant present. Yet the future approaches fast, As I stand stuck in cement.

It isn’t a night, they say; It is but just a tunnel. However dark be it may, There’s an end to the null.

Yet every ray of light I saw, With my eyes at a strain, I prepared myself for a maul, As it was sure to be a train.

Never did come the mauling, Nor did arrive the respite. All I could hear was howling, I wasn’t alone in my plight.

The cement became quicksand, And I seep beneath the surface. Desperation drives my hand, As I struggle to save my face.

My hand finds someone’s, A despairing, desperate meet, Alas, it was too little too late, And slowly succumbs my heartbeat.

Purgatory asks me how I was, As they weigh my sins. But they never accounted for my loss, Neither did they care about my wins.

They told me I can choose, Between redemption and pain, And I chose to pay my dues, Only to stand in the cement again.

#Choice #Dark #death #Poetry

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