Four, six, eight, ten
and what we see is another poem.
A SILENT SCREAM
A silent scream
Blood-curdling
A cut soul deep
An oozing of crimson water
Shaken vertical ranks
Unconnected and scary
Not a word, silenced.
Biting the lips
Holding back the tears
Closing the eyes, hurt magnified.
A piece of the heart
Is now lost.
The core is stained,
Insignificant and chained.
Gut-wrenching shrieks of horror
Heard to the self, none other.
Left all alone, with only memories
And now in need of stitches and surgeries.
Lying on the floor
In a pool of blood
With ripped hair, a slashed wrist.
Cold, pale and stiff
Without a breath, images so marred.
Just an aura of faded love.
Staring at the blank ceiling
Prodding over the sweet nothings
A noiseless teardrop runs down the cheek.
But all that remains is a handful of shards!
© 2012 Dhriti Govind Raj