The hands approached towards me,
But it was not the hands of help.
I was scared like hell,
But the hands over my mouth made it impossible for me to yell.
I kept looking towards the beautiful sky,
While my body was delve into by several hands.
A little help from the one sitting up high
Was all I was praying for?
‘Cause no matter how loud I scream,
Nobody is going to help me.
It broke my wishful daydream
When even God never came to set me free.
I felt a sudden grip on my wrist,
A pressure over my chest that I struggled to resist.
My body numbed and the breath fall short,
But it was not the end to my misery.
I was then wrapped in fire and pushed into the pits of hell.

-Kusum

I swing against the wind everynight,

to feel the gush of it.

I try to hold it in my hands,

but everytime it slips and take away a part of me,

a part that I don’t remember.

I have chased it in the past,

I am chasing it now too.

And it takes me to the window with cracks,

that tempts me to touch it,

like a bird soaring high into the sky in a

dark cloudy night.

And it scars my hands, but

strangely I feel no pain.

-Kusum