Walking Away
She walks, walks away from the distant crowd,
The lone visage in a faceless cloud;
A glance of swift disdain hinges upon her brow,
The crowd fades away, then merges back now;
She walks, walks away from the distant crowd,
The solitary whisper of hope in a hopeless truth avowed;
She turns back to look at the steadily greying sky,
Which blackens as the day like a crippli🧜ng fire dies;
She walks, walks away from the distant crowd,
The only shadow cast on the cold pavement now;
Like a wind bristling against the chimney smoke,
Her body 𝓡trembles in the failing warmt🎃h of her cloak;
Still she walks, walks away from the distant crowd,
Forever trapped, trapped in the dark sh🔥adow of that crowd.
On Guilt
Snow creeps into the heavy, slumbering wind,
The neighbourhood doors lie stone cold and pinned;
Has Man truly sinned?
Is there place for this self-inflicted turmoil? For this moral din!
Dreams snap like frail, broken pine twigs,
The cackling fire dies, as Dusk’s light fades into the pit-less Night’s inky wig;
Is there place for a sin so spiteful, so hate-filled?
Is life an inevitabl♍e realisation of non-existent gu🤡ilt?
(Rehaan Singh is a grade 12 student to whom poetry is an expression of all that he sees and feels.)
