Author: Anushka Chaudhary, Class IX F
The pyres of agony, they ignite a roaring fire with their blaring screams in the roots of my crestfallen heart
My astray soul seeks the shelter of a distraught piece of thought
My eyes, lined with a downcast aura of pitch tenebrosity
But even when I stand meters away from the brink of obliteration,
My pumping heartbeats dance to a rhythm of boundless zest.
Gently, like a mother cradling her baby to sleep,
They caress the stems of my restless mind and friskily whisper the secret to a beautiful life.
Bloom, they say, bloom like the rose that stands upright even after a deplorable storm.
Nurture the youthful sapling of your mind with a colossal plethora of hope.
For it is hope that applauds every essence of one’s existence
And motivates every sense of a depressed cognizance.
Effortlessly showering every inch of a disturbed heart with delicate petals of provocation,
Serving as the aim to live a life adorned with thorns.
For even when fortune abandons you to drown in the unfathomable oceans of misery and melancholy,
Accompanied by a state of nothing but the suffocating weight of sheer disenchantment on your shoulders
Hope drives you on the road of pursuing your dreams
The same dreams crumpled under the spell of wretched circumstances
The same dreams, ruthlessly burnt in the pyres of agony.
