The dark chamberĀ 

Dwelling quietly in a room of darkness, 

Aloof from the world, wrapped with a blanket of coldness

No song emanates from there.

But only syllables of silence, .

Amidst the chirping of the grasshoppers. 

He seems to have been dissolved in the silence 
Sitting quietly with resilience. 

No noise disturbs him.

No sight excites him.

His senses seem to have grown cold.

His tales of silence have always been told. 

“May be he got tired of life

Or realised how hard it is a strife

To win and live thereafter” 
Even I don’t know the reason

Everytime,I meet him I try to decipher that silence 

He mystifies me

And his silence still defy me.

 Subrat Mohanty 

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Dilapidated doll

doll

There was a time when I was his prized possession.

He played with me for hours, inventing games out of his imagination.

Now his imagination has soared to the sky,

Where I am nothing but a speck of dust,

Existing quietly in a corner,

Waiting for someone to notice by.

Subrat Mohanty

The garden of my mind

gardenIt was a calm morning when I walked into my garden,

Looking at every flower and every creeper with solemn attention.

They had been growing for ages

Yet, I hardly felt they were there.

Till now, I felt it was I who was there,

Living through minutes without bothering who did care.

 

Yet now,I have time

Time to pause,

Time to look into the eyes of the world around,

To indulge in fragrances that they throw,

To be mesmerised by their colourful decor that they put up to show,

To gaze at those colourful petals and observe them fading in the winds of times,

 

 

So, that I know whatever is good, can still blossom silently.

All we have is a canister full of love that we can pour with perseverance

Onto the tender roots grown so deep and wait with patience

To see our life flowering,

Amidst the times ever changing…

Subrat Mohanty