By Ishita Das
He climbed the tree
to see the world
but fell too soon.
Millions of followers
close to his heart
yet they were thousand miles apart.
In his glamorous world
he was always an ‘outcaste’.
Darkness was slowly accruing
in his heart.
Trapped in a glass dome,
he cried in excruciating pain
but in vain.
On the other side of the glass,
the people only saw him.
Never did they hear him.
And gradually, the lights turned dim.
His past, present and
future was blurred.
Forbidden memories clamoured.
He craved for a cure
But the anticipation of future
made his present so obscure.
A wide, un-bridged gulf.
The dark, dank vacuum
sucked the charm and freshness
of his bright, tender days,
leaving hope’s dying rays.
But that too slipped away.
And he decided to lose.
He could fight no more.
His smiles could not
conceal his wounds anymore.
As the reins fell loose,
his soul escaped surreptitiously
leaving behind a
fragile, exasperated body.
Hence, ceased the melancholy tune.
The dazzling flame of his life
sputtered and went out too soon.