Tell Me It's Not Over

By Laxmi Guria

Sparkling on this haunted tower,

like a lamp in the morning hour,

nothing seems to come as if,

everything goes into devour.

Doesn’t have a magic hair,

not even a mother to call when it is unfair,

I am a mere glass shoe that doesn’t fit anywhere.

A prince of riches and true colours,

are some pieces of rare.

I sing to myself to sleep

even though I barely dream, my dawn prayer.

Tell me it’s not over,

tell me it’s all going to come true,

I will break these chains one day,

and shatter these walls of grief into grains as if it’s a child’s play.

A future tale waiting right on the lane,

with a shadow wearing an angel’s halo,

like a smile under the hurricane rain.

By Laxmi Guria