Sighs of an old house still breathes in me!

 

On the shoulders of some strangers,

I keep looking for an old house,

An upside down world exists within my ribs,

Where long winters prevail,

For the breaths of some old kings and queens,

Have turned ice; blood in their limbs is now blue,

And their eyes are like windows,

Tucked in every corner of the other houses,

From where they see the world,

Trying to find me in those windows,

Where my face doesn’t reflect anymore,

 I have disappeared long back,

From behind those glasses,

To remain unfound,

The horde is like another big home,

That shelters my humanness,

I stay put inside the upside down world of mine,

That breathes silently beneath the huge mansion,

Of few pretend kings and queens,

My nights remain long thus,

For my sun stays hidden in the daytime,

Winters have settled in my limbs,

I freeze a little more each year and tears become stone,

Each year, but still there is something,

In the arms of myriad strangers,

I try to find a home evermore,

That is lost somewhere in the mist of past,

When night silently sulks alongside my sighs,

The moon in my ribs shines,

But not bright enough in those lanes,

Where I vanish every time,

My soul still travels to places seldom,

But it too comes back to me,

Into that labyrinth where I find solace,

Meeting again someone would be like,

Finding that old house on their tired shoulders,

That is burdened much with their own world,

The mayhem in my bones is now my peace,

I will always come back to my dwelling,

To remain disappeared for long,

The old house doesn’t heave a sigh of my name anymore, 

Like it’s old limbs giving up on its youth,

It has stopped waiting for me now,

But it still breathes inside me as a derelict…

 

 ~Monalisa Joshi~

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