Crows, cawing through the dead trees,
Dogs barking around the pitch roads knitted with dark memories.
As if the city is cursed,
By the old witch and her magic wand.
Mannequins with soulless eyes,
Creeping under those city lights.
Anomalous objects crawling on the roof
Spelling her name, attempting to make a move.
There she is, under the blanket sheets,
Hiding her existence like she wouldn't be seeked.
Purses her lips, trying not to scream,
For people mock her, the way she is.
As it is a disease, she's bearing,
Seeing things that are unseen.
Time is a thief indeed,
Stealing every bit of life she's left with.
In the middle of the sleepless nights, as the hour strikes,
Uncertainty tickles her mind,
For tomorrow shall be born again.
Yet, the same echoes will haunt her mind.
The writer is a class 12 student at Birshreshtha Noor Mohammad Public College.