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A Deserted Mansion
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Aug 2010 Contest, English Poetry |
Darkness reigns, spreads her silken gown, Inside, a silent moonbeam trickles slowly down. A floorboard creaks as a mouse scurries down, A battered door squeaks, just about to fall down.
From the eye in my crown, I see the moon twirl, And hide like a frightened little girl. A gust of wind like a castaway cloak doth swirl, And a legion of clouds, their colours do unfurl.
I watch the moon play – my only pastime, Till the sun doth rise like an incongruity- a great golden dime. A zombie rising from a grave, I do mime, Uncaring of care or want or time.
The wind whistles in the empty grounds, Taunting this barren me with its eerie sounds. Silence… only perhaps the baying of stray hounds, And none walks proud on these now-empty grounds.
An owl alights in the silent tapestry, To make its presence felt to me. I wait for renovation, but alas! Who cares for me? I am but a deserted mansion – Aye! That’s me.
Nirvana Guha