ARUNA SHANBAUG

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"So you think that you kept me alive for past 4 decades without return! Article 21 R.I.P. as thou got no dignity left as far as life is concerned!  Twilight Zone (Between Dreams & Doom) In Oblivion Chair, suffering my weight More than my legs But less than my state Blessed to vegetate Bed, bearing my laze More than my body But less than my dreams That mind cannot reiterate!  Four walls are standing I am not inspired I may be a carcass Laying sodomized I won’t gauge his sin More than a skeleton Less than a robe of withered skin! Comfortably numb at the altar I am a picture in frame A scripture scripted by writers A poem penned down A verdict pronounced An article published, news announced More of a story told Less than the wisdom that got unfold Caressing wounds of everybody all around! Four walls are standing They call it my room Painted it with their hopes While paint being the gloom More than their eyes could ever witness Less than what they do believe If death is the only plea Left for them to set me free As my eyes wink Their hearts sinks Such is their misery, they call its mine A living oxymoron of being alive But I got soul and it knows Ceiling is not the only sky! Written bY: Bharatshree

"So you think that you kept me alive for past 4 decades without return! Article 21 R.I.P. as thou got no dignity left as far as life is concerned! 

Twilight Zone (Between Dreams & Doom) In Oblivion

Chair, suffering my weight

More than my legs

But less than my state

Blessed to vegetate

Bed, bearing my laze

More than my body

But less than my dreams

That mind cannot reiterate! 

Four walls are standing

I am not inspired

I may be a carcass

Laying sodomized

I won’t gauge his sin

More than a skeleton

Less than a robe of withered skin!

Comfortably numb at the altar

I am a picture in frame

A scripture scripted by writers

A poem penned down

A verdict pronounced

An article published, news announced

More of a story told

Less than the wisdom that got unfold

Caressing wounds of everybody all around!

Four walls are standing

They call it my room

Painted it with their hopes

While paint being the gloom

More than their eyes could ever witness

Less than what they do believe

If death is the only plea

Left for them to set me free

As my eyes wink

Their hearts sinks

Such is their misery, they call its mine

A living oxymoron of being alive

But I got soul and it knows

Ceiling is not the only sky!

Written bY: Bharatshree