by Bidisha Chakraborty

Convict’s conviction
Arrayed over monotonous derangement,
I am yearning for a gleam

But destined with windy routes,
Undelightful deserts,
My ship halts to another destination

Crippled, crumbled, a desolate garden
I witness my fortune sinking
I am mesmerizing to rested rejoices,
Not mine but somebody’s
Consciously betraying another ‘I’
Being devoured into hallucinations

I am a prey to divine uroboric inflictions
I am an architect of air castles
Prostituting, hammering, operating my soul
I am casually overlooking practicality

Though a romantic voyage, seems versatile
A facade of oblivion I press my mark

With a famine heart
Clutching illusions as solids
I am a convict of emotional farce
Signing contractual ecstasies
Not mine but somebody’s

© 2022 Bidisha Chakraborty  All rights reserved.

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