Sitting in my classroom,
beside the window on my left,
I gaze outside
there is a Sheesham tree,
shadowing the sunlight in patches over me.
While strands of sunlit hazel
tickle my cheeks,
so, the breeze murmurs for me
to tuck them behind
as I gaze outside;
a bird perches on the lines,
chirrups to me in wistful eyes
then scampers to flight,
into a sky of blue
stroked with white.
The beams of gold caressed
the Gulmohar trees,
like milestone lamps they gleamed,
yellowing my street.
The more you trust,
the more they betray.
The more you love,
they see you as prey
not to a quiet death,
rather, to tear; piece by piece
and breath by breath.
call this faith, or call this love-
I care not to name anymore.
I have feared You,
and so have I loved-
with no boundaries, as no shrewd.
I am sunk in sorrow, in guilt,
with no saves of mine.
I mutter apologies
promising i’d never commit
the blunder again.