A Flicker of Hope

By Neha Bhave

Beneath the veil where shadows linger long,

A muted cry reverberates, a fractured song.

No ear to catch the sorrow’s silent plea,

Awar waged in silence, yearning to be free.

Fingers trace the etchings on tender flesh,

A cartography of grief, where demons thresh.

Ghosts of memory stalk the night’s cold breath,

A soul adrift on the shore of death.

In the glass, an abyss stares back, stark

Eyes hollowed out by a world gone dark.

The sirens sing from caverns deep,

Promising slumber, an eternal, calm sleep.

Addiction’s embrace is a serpent’s coil,

A venom sweet, yet steeped in toil.

It quenches the fire, numbs the sting,

But leaves behind a shadowed wing.

The past, a spectre with talons sharp,

A spectre that carves, etches and harps

Each inhale, a mountain to ascend,

Each exhale, a harrowing descent, without end.

Suicidal musings, a darkened mask,

Promising solace in an infinite flask.

Yet the void beckons with a hollow grin,

A chasm where the light grows thin.

For those ensnared in despair’s cruel grip,

Know that your light, though dim, does slip.

Through the cracks, a dawn might break,

In the deepest dark, hope can still awake.

By Neha Bhave