"This quarantine", I heard them say.
"May be soon, soon they say
Soon we may be hunged in the frame
On the wall,
And be a memory wrapped in the mind;
Mind of the people we love, of the people we hate
Trying to complete one last wish but sadly we're late".
It broke my heart.

In the solitude, as a protagonist
I outrun the epidemic
But left no choice.
Tonight again;
I shelter myself in abundant places.
I fed my soul satisfying him with the view of nature,
but failed to feed the evil hunger.
Like a broken window which allow
the rain, the air, the dust to pass through it;
Feels like the mucus lining of the stomach
has commanded the HCl to digest my skin.

I now can only dream to break the bridge
In a hope;
May be they would be able to reach me,
May be I would never have to be alone,
May be I could live a little longer then a day,
May be...



© Madhusmita Devi

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