I wept in rooms of Grief.. I howled in chambers of Horror.
In the corridor of Pain, My battered body was dragged..
In the halls of Fame, it signaled my arrival.
I moaned, i loathed..Yet i smiled a Bloody smile.
And laughed a sighing laughter.
Is it the mirror? Is it? Tell me if it is for real?
If i touch..will it break? Will i break?
Will it shatter to a hundred pieces like the shell that destroyed the tower of pride?
...And i touched it.
This is bold, blatant and plain brilliant! I love the constant on-the-edge, crisis-countdown feeling it generates! :)
ReplyDeletein ur lang.. "brootal" ? :P ..thankeww love!!!
ReplyDeletevery nice
ReplyDeletegrt imageries
grt lines
:) thanks a ton!
ReplyDelete"the shell that destroyed the tower of pride"- quite an unique image... liked the poem.
ReplyDeletebold and dark.
ReplyDeleteliked the usage of the mirror.
nice poem, deba.
thanks torsa and riya :)
ReplyDeleteriya... u gave me da incentive!! muah.
:D ...and some more strictly heterosexual and legal PDA for u. muah :D
ReplyDeleteBeautiful
ReplyDelete