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By Maahi Verma

The cause of her silence,

Was nothing but violence.

The fear behind her smile,

Has been with her since a long while.

She wants to get up and going,

But there is something that stops her from glowing.

Is it a person?

Or is it none?

Or is she just healing?

Is it life?

Or just her on top of the knife?

Is it normal?

Or is it a moral?

Is it a way of expressing care?

Or is it tearing a new layer?

Is it a friend?

Or is it something she’d comprehend?

Is it her?

Yes, It’s her.

Responsible for her is her own self.

So dear, open a new shelf.

A shelf to your heart,

From now you must start.

For her it’s just tears of joy and sadness of words and weights;

Harm done by her own mates.

Trust is simply jest;

So I manifest,

A being of soul and energy,

Who inspired this elegy.

So let me take this chance,

And make it happen like it’s the last dance.

By Maahi Verma

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