Bequest

Standing in this shore of no light,
The cold wind caressing my face;
A 'dingy' approaching in the storm,
Never did I feel its importance.
Struggling in a delirium to save it
I was being swallowed in by the quick sand.

The sting of the scorpion benumbed
My ability to fight against;
Gradually sinking in this sand
Like the feathers of a bird being torn apart.
The crustacean layer covering,
Quenching the need for stitches!

Mourning the death of the newborn,
Obscure to me,
Sinking till the throat,
The eyes free to visualize;
The hawk relying on its eyesight
Only to be pestered by the winds.

Uprooting the tree
Not to leave any trace,
The shards of crabs climbing,
Nesting in my body;
Hoardes of parasites and leeches
Making their way to feast.

Differentiating the layers
Of moss and lichens,
I lie stagnant, succumbed in this quicksand;
The protruding sockets
Provide naive visions
Of uncounted boats drowning!


------- this is actually a prostitute's story... being drowned in the quicksand(soceity)... the lichens and moss growing on her skin (filth)... the crustaceans (people using her). The idea is Sourav's ... hence the piece is dedicated to him!!!!