Moira
By Medha Veronica Thakur
Unexplainable thoughts,
Oppressed I keep.
Countless questions asked but,
What do I reap?
Concealed silhouettes,
Of buried dreams,
Unseen in the land of the supreme being.
Bowing to fate and,
Ascending with pride.
I lay in a corner
And listen to their cries.
It shall pass.
It always does,
Was the only thought in her mind.
By Medha Veronica Thakur

Comments