Aftermath

 

A house is a mind, where myriad invisible wars,

are fought with enemies that are stronger than the will,

every war has an aftermath, the mind gets tangled in those,

every war leaves behind ghosts of untrodden future,

and from past homes, where the visits bleed the soul more,

time is a taker, and the giver of crying souls that need help,

mind has layers of floors, thousands of stairs, unnumbered rooms,

biggest house one can travel and finish in one lifetime,

the ghosts will walk too, silently, curled beneath our skins,

they come out at nights, making them longer than the days,

the villain of the war was not always a Hitler, one demon can,

raise bedlam too, on days when your soul is healing itself,

from the previous wars, have you tasted the calmness of the aftermath,

it tastes like blood dripping from the mind into the mouth,

the nightmare refuses to leave the mind, the house of the body,

is more crowded than ever, yet the comfort from the flouting world,

is still there, on the wrinkled sheets of the bed in a room that,

I have to find each night through the maze of mind’s house.

It’s a home still, I keep coming back to…

Poem by Monalisa Joshi

                                                          Image Source: Pinterest