ScribblerArnaB

White walls weep Antiseptic beads, sterile, unstained. Hippocrates gnashes bone against earth, His ancient oath splintering in its tomb. Staccato heartbeats On cracked monitors Tick, tick, tick— Then silence— The flat-line of existence. Corridors twist— Escherian nightmare, Where healers— Ah, the healers! Are hunted like prey In a sterile jungle. Power's labyrinth— Minotaurs of mercy with iron in their gaze, Their hands clean, Yet cruelty seeps from every pore, Feasting on innocence. Trust: a currency devalued, Hope: a luxury taxed. In closets of shame, Skeletons waltz with fresh corpses. Nightingales sing requiems For their fallen sisters— (Who will hear? Who will care?) Society's bones—brittle, porous— Snap under the weight of silence. Justice: blindfolded, gagged, bound In red tape and white lies. The girl? Fragmented Like this verse, Pieces swept under sterilized rugs. April's promise of renewal Ah! A harsh veneer, When August in Bengal strips it bare, Revealing oaths d...

 

In the arms of solitude, keenly sense, A vast absence, a void intense. Every passing moment silently pleads, A sweet presence, my spirit needs.   The gentle wind whispers, softly it sways, Lost in echoes, as time slips away. A longing to grasp lingering still, In every breath, I feel the chill.   Amidst the quiet, I seek your embrace, A desire so deep, it leaves a trace. In the hush of night, in the ray of day, Your absence dawdles, never fades away.