The Night's Grip

By Pratishtha Kumari

The night constricts, it steals my breath,

Its shadows drown me, close to death.

A silence strange, so dark, so near,

It chills my bones, it feeds my fear.

Invading thoughts refuse to cease,

They shatter sleep, they steal my peace.

Though night is said to soothe, to heal,

It hides a storm no light can seal.

Demonic whispers crowd my head,

Replacing hope with dread instead.

They strip my strength, they make me small,

Till I can’t see myself at all.

The past returns with ghostly sting,

And drags me deep in overthinking.

It poisons now, corrodes the day,

And shadows all my tomorrow’s way.

In restless hours, I drown, I fight,

A captive soul to endless night.

Yet somewhere faint, a voice does say,

The dawn will break this curse away.

By Pratishtha Kumari