The Sky Is Sorrow

By Gayatri Nandini Ramakant Halde

The way I want to be drenched in melancholy with colours blue and pink.

For I have certainty in my mind yet contrary in the ink.

To scratch the words on my back with knives and screams. I

touch the eternity of youth and all deaths. But for life is mine,

how do I count my breathes?

“I get mean when I’m nervous like a mad dog” and I ache like my world is spiralling around the

tragedies I have wished for.

I chew on my desires and paint them with colours. Again and again and

again with same complexity.

To worship death it’s easier to forget lives we live.

Trees and birds and bees and folded clothes. Slightly touch the ropes you see. You

might get the idea that life is eternal, but so is death.

That colours you see are for death as they are for life. Sky is

blue but so is sorrow.

Why is that we prey on happiness and throw the blues away. Defending the

death I sail the sea. The moon so divine and wolves with me.

I make no sense but the words are true. For I have written them in these hues.

By Gayatri Nandini Ramakant Halde