Mar 10, 2011

The Unwanted Drain

Her eyes meander vacantly,
unfeeling of the maggots snaking uncouth wires.
Whispering taps may lay unheeded,
but for the tainted morsels- remnants
of charitable souls, that slaked
undying pangs of rage.
Still, the wild Medusa would strike, when provoked:
turning sudden ghastly trembles,
by ensnaring snares;
hissing at confused ridicules, spites, or whistles.
Disbelieving in retrospect,
saline tears drench her volatile past,
compel her void existence
to slacken fears, and stay disengaged
and lynched forever.

Rajashree Anand

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