Today, the moon has hid
The clouds are its curtains
Ashamed to go on…
While my going away is certain.
The two-storey building I lived in,
Has turned pale and bleak
Haunted by my death
It will never live nor speak.
In frantic search of my reflection
Its efforts are in vain
For, I appear in no direction
Ironed and placed,
Restless to be worn,
In the cupboard are my clothes
Oblivious of the truth that I am gone.
Then, there is a pen and a book
Lying on the table
They will never let anyone write
The best poem or any happy fable.
The clock that ticks is In a zugzwang, frozen
My loss made it drown in the sorrow as deep as an ocean.
I ran after humans I thought that was so wise
I didn’t see the objects carrying a heart in their guise.
Humans turned me into ashes
Didn’t let the hope interfere
May be I would return
This is what they most feared.
The choice between humans
And the non-living objects
I made was wrong and mindless
Also, uncorrectable as it’s too late.
“Only humans could make me feel alive While I live and die”
This wrong belief has caused hurt
And a total destruction of my non-existent heart.