Poems by


a poem by Aishwarya

Mystery glazes my eyes,
After my evening siesta,
Waking up is like,
Stepping into a world I see,
But don’t know;
Illusions tramp my vision,
Reality becomes fluid,
Bathroom walls seem,
The safest refuge,
An old, dusty tubelight,
Lighting the tiles that close upon me,
Reflect in the glistening tiles,
Sometimes one wants to stay,
And see the illusions losing their voice,
See the reflections disappear,
See cold reality overpower the matrix,
And then,
Stepping out,
The world
Is a box again!
Things in their places,
Voices ringing in ears,
Fans rattling in boredom,
I become a couch in a painting,
Staying there unmoving, bland,
Till another distant afternoon siesta!