To the sinister that scorns every rose I pick,
To the cantor who breaks every note I sing,
To the silent who disparages every word I speak,
I encounter that ominous while repairing my wings.
It ought to sneer my fresh scars again,
Unaware that it silhouetted me against the rain
Where the poisoned dagger recedes my sanctity
Which slowly inherits an unknown entity.
I doubt they believe that the divergence that I choose
Is all that defies me as a hangman's noose,
But how do I denude the thing which I fear?
For it is the thing I hold most dear.
The writer is a class 12 student at Joypurhat Girls' Cadet College