Strike of The Time


The strikes come all of a sudden . . .
This isn’t a war, for I am not fighting back
They come hurting from inside, asking why can’t this be –
I don’t know the answer
I only know the searing pain
And the fact that for all the brilliant days lit by ascending or descending footsteps
echoing all around my being . . .
I can’t, really can’t hang on to the time . . .
The Time . . .
The Time must win
And the Prisoners of Time will be left with a collection of smiles, tosses of the head,
And the few odd moments spend sitting together

Advertisements

About Surya Sunder

Anglophone Bibliophile
This entry was posted in The Stair Poems. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s