top of page

What Do They Call Me?

By Arnav Mall


The horns cried out, yet the fields remained silent, 

The rains swept over mighty halls of gold, 

The winds led out a painful shriek, 

My soul cried out too, yet none heard my weep. 


I wandered and found myself, 

Deep in the midst of the foggy graveyard. 

The dead answer no one they say 

Yet they were more patient to me then people. 


I cried out and they said "he's a poet"

Though my cries reached some, 

They all exclaimed and clapped at my pain. 

Poet they call me? 

Yet I'm only a wanderer of this endless sea of pains. 


Then I remained silent, 

The rains swept over me,

Like they swept over those empty halls of gold. 

And my cries faded away under the sounds of horn in the fields. 


Perhaps the silence was too loud, 

Too loud for the folks to listen, 

Or maybe the shrieks of pain got buried inside my very own grave. 


By Arnav Mall


Recent Posts

See All
Someone's

By Rakhitha P I once read a story about a girl, Who was the dearest of the dearest, The one adored and adorned. Her life lavish with love, she thought it eternal. But as she grew, she became someone’s

 
 
 
Dreams Unturned

By Rakhitha P You will not take away from me, my life. You will not dare, to give me dreams- Of hope, of love Then turn back and betray the trust.   The child is naive and you misuse it. The child is

 
 
 
The Good & The Bad

By Rakhitha P There is this thing about people who have always lived in the light, They have love so warm, but their thoughts prejudiced. Not because they're bad, but because of inexperience.   They m

 
 
 

Comments

Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
bottom of page