It Felt Surreal

By Dr. Pratik Pravin Bhat

Upon that fateful day it dawned,

As heavens darkened in the sky,

That I had erred in every way,

Yet, repetition reigned, refusing to comply.

A hoodie draped, an axe in hand,

A blow unto my former flame,

Thus, did I, amidst the shadows stand,

Quenching ghosts, my past to tame.

Yet with each stroke of sharpened steel,

My flesh, in wonder, tore apart,

Ascending higher, a soul to heal,

In a crimson, chaotic art.

Stains of scarlet upon the bed,

Pillowcases awash in red,

Gazing out where heavens spread,

Blue fading to black, as if it bled.

In flames, my spirit seemed to ignite,

Would this day see my survival,

Or shall I succumb to an endless night,

A victim bound, a slave to revival?

Then came the cold, a jolt of water's touch,

Drenched and shivering, from dreams untold,

Reality's grip, though I would clutch,

Yet still, my thoughts in darkness fold.

“Mother!”, her voice, a beacon near,

She who I cherished, for whom I lived,

“You trembled as if a hummingbird”, her words clear,

Awakening me from dreams contrived.

Disturbed by memories, haunting and grim,

Rahul, a spectre, haunting my core,

A vow I made, to banish him,

Yet like lingering scent, he lingers more.

Upon the floor, my sickness spilled,

My mother, with mop, began to tend,

Yet what of my soul, still unfulfilled,

In this torment, will it find an end?

By Dr. Pratik Pravin Bhat