Her

By Ria Mukherjee

She find herself a single, unremarkable thread woven

Among countless others everyday. 

Her life, like the quiet hum of a distant summer evening,

Often passes unnoticed, a whisper lost

In the grand symphony of existence. 

She is the everyman, neither hero nor villain,

But a quiet participant in the world 

Around her.

“Let your guard down," they say.

She drops her veil, 

Like a bubble meeting the ground.

Through the dense forest, 

She treads with bare feet,

Mud and dirt gather, 

But she remains unshaken.

By Ria Mukherjee