Poetry

Kirk Allen Mastin

By

Saru Pokharel

Her

There she lies,

In the veil of smile and teary eyes,

Smashed and shattered all inside, scattered in pieces

There she lies,

Guiled by her own, swindled and lost

dirge turned smile, grief and gust

There she lies and cries, how pious she had been

when was deceived and lost her grin,

Embracing her broken parts, then she stands,

Then she stands,

with trembling feet and empty hands,

To demur the demons and heal the fears,

You watch her shine, cause now she stands

YEAH now she stands

Drowning Into Deep

I see my skin wet, I feel my voice skip,

In dead sea of grief, I’m drowning into deep

Breaths dissolved in water, or tears may I call,

Or blood of my own, I’m plunged into all

I hear that sound, whisper through the shore.

“Thou belong here” behind the tree, through rock’s core,

Abash my deeds, to the deep I fall,

To the sleep, never known to be awaken, dark and dull

Down deep in cold lies my insanity or zeal,

Or remorse of past or the wounds unhealed

In zenith lies my beloved, in dreams I see,

To feel her, to touch her, to keep her I plea

But I’m falling into deep or dragged to the core,

Or the battle’s been over and I can fight no more.

Saru Pokharel

Saru Pokharel is a final year student of B.Sc., microbiology, Tri Chandra Multiple Campus, Kathmandu, Nepal. She is an adept hand in both prose and poetry writing.