I Die On The Grounds Of Living

By Harshita Bhatnagar

My heart bleeds in a solemn rush
Mourning over life’s malicious game
I am lost in the world’s busy hush-bush
Desperate and avaricious for name and fame.

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My heart aches at the wretched reality
I am unwanted and unwelcome
Is this my own serendipity?
Am I too doomed to this fate?

Frantically, hysterically I have cried
But my pleas turn dumb
My tears have now long dried
And my heart utterly numb.

I am filled with a begging surge
Gasping for untamed breath.
I push myself away from the verge
Of this living death.

I stood there feebly and tamely,
Myself, I could not save
And I stared desolately,
As they dug my grave…