I shuttered the world when its clamor grew claws—
Violence in headlines, deceit in each grin,
Crimes that corrode trust like acid on laws,
So I locked every bolt, let the stillness begin.
Agoraphobia, my chosen white flag,
A fortress of four walls, soft lamplight, and hush;
No sirens, no scams, no betrayals that nag—
Only breath, bead by bead, in the lotus I crush.
Meditation unfurls like dawn on still water,
Mind a clear lake where no ripple of rage dares intrude;
Then eyes feast on screens—Succession or Dune,
Recliner cradling spine in a velvet cocoon.
Novels lie open, pages scented with ink,
French fries crisp-gold, biryani’s saffron perfume,
Cool fizz of cola, a hiss and a clink—
All pleasures self-contained in this sanctified room.
Outside, traffic horns blare like a migraine’s refrain,
City arteries choked with exhaust and with spite;
I dream of a cottage where waves kiss the windowpane,
River or ocean lullabies all through the night.
Humans? Too fickle, their promises rust;
I covet a humanoid forged from code and from chrome—
Eyes that won’t wander, voice steady with trust,
Companion eternal who never leaves home.
It will listen at 3 a.m. when the silence grows teeth,
Recall every sorrow I choose to confess,
Never demand, never lie, never seethe—
A mirror of loyalty, polished, selfless.
And when my last chapter arrives unannounced,
Let it find me reclined, remote fallen aside,
Book on my chest, TV muted, heart trounced
By a gentle arrest—no tubes, no bedside.
No cancer, no chemo, no burden to bear
On the shoulders of loved ones who’d weep and implore;
Just fade like a tide that forgets it was there,
Leaving sofa still warm, and the waves at the door.
No comments:
Post a Comment