IRONCLAD

I trudged through withered bracken and the frosted winter parade

As ice-storms swept across a barren, icicle'd glade

A hushed midnight and the gloomy woods were bathed in a dull pallor of the gibbous moon

Melodies lamented and moaned an endless, melancholic tune

‘Twas a lone walk through pastures of wilted blooms

Solitude was a friend in the summers of honey breath in the deep green woods

Swept away by the currents or blown away by the torrents

As twilight lazily rested on hillocks and in the amaranthine dells

Like a laden cloud I cascaded down when the load was a dead weight

I had gathered pieces of myself and strung them together with a parched wreath

Pensive was the boon of listening to rumbling whispers

Like a dimpling stream I flowed and carved my own trails

Like the ocean arose and crashed to write my own fate,

Letting the sun guide my way and the moon shine on my rugged path

Now I ask all the pulsing stars to sing of my struggles,

The forests to hum about my heart and all its vexing puzzles

Emerging into the glossy glow out of the darkened warrens,

I'm now perched on the zenith to paint the burnished skies.

©️ Sangeetha Kamath

Pic Courtesy: Image by bluext2 from Pixabay

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