Freedom From The Hope Of Freedom

By Subhadeep Santra

The breeze that reach my face unabashed by the shackles

that wackles my sole and soul and lingers in this miniscule cell

But the frenzy storm outside is waiting to blow me away

I see freedom on the other side of an unfathomable dark abyss

Being redundant is not repugnant any more

I am accustomed to this solace

Even hope is not allowed to enter through the rusted iron bars

Hope is an ever devouring demon growing adnascent to my pain

Not allowing me to live in accubation

Addling my mind, muddling my emotion

The moonlit rays that plays like a child gone wild

In all corners of my Carceral existence

Allaying all fears that hope brings along

I do not wish to stand under the full moon

I am afraid of the unending horizon

These enclosed walls feel like a blanket wrapped around an infant

The filtered rays of the sun that enter through the eyehole

is enough to ignite the dark corners of my soul.

I cannot live lost in the open world estranged from my loneliness

No escapade to the outer chaos is better than the silence within

Hope is the like the million specks of sand that the palm cannot secure

It is the aphonous lament that no one can hear

Dejection is a singular piece of debris but hope is like bread crumblings

I fall of fatigue before I pick it all

Hope slips through the palm again and again

Hope is a constant humming initially pleasing but turning pale over time

Dejection is a silent lullaby that let me sleep in peace

Hope is an octopus that entangles me and I fail to declutter

Dejection disembroils me from expectations

It renders to me the freedom from the hope of freedom

By Subhadeep Santra