Heartache

It has been difficult to hold on & I am really trying my best,
But you don’t seem to care anymore,
Something has caused an unrest…

 We are like an age-old citadel,
 That looks admirable from the outside,
 We have been cited as an example, to the walls that are still being laid…
 Only our heart knows, what it took to be resilient.
 Only we are aware of the times we mended the walls discreetly…
 The rough weathers tried to take us down,
 Sometimes, we gave up on everything, but each other…
 For, that’s all we ever had.
 For as long as I reminisce,
 I always found you by my side….
 It has been difficult to hold on & I am really trying my best,
 But you don’t seem to care anymore,
 Something has caused an unrest…
 I realise you’re finally turning into stone,
 So that the walls don’t crumble away,
 I hope I can bolster our damaged hearts,
 I hope we can still find a way.
Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya

Under the Thriving Brown

I was bounded by the soil, when they buried me deep.
For years I was undisturbed,
Then one day he woke me up, from the profound sleep.

I think its sunset, I sense he is around…
I wait like I constantly do,
Under the thriving brown.

He writes poetries and sometimes he narrates them to me,
I just nod or smile in approval,
I am not even sure he ever perceives…

I know so much about him, and that he doesn’t know,
I know who crushed his heart,
The girl he planned to propose.

He always sits on a bench tarnished with age,
Sometimes he sits on the grass and
Plays with its blades.

I wonder if he knows, that I exist too,
I have always loved him,
Maybe not in form, but in a different hue…

He is withdrawn, and hardly stable.
There is much pain in his prose,
Makes him distant and unapproachable…

On some days I have wanted to come out of hiding,
To tell him, how good he is, but I can’t…
My soul will follow him through but my being shan’t!

I was bounded by the soil, when they buried me deep.
For years I was undisturbed,
Then one day he woke me up, from the profound sleep.

He doesn’t know yet, that he sits on a grave,
I don’t intend to scare him, I feel he is brave,

I know he won’t fancy a carcass with no name,
But this deceased heart will still admire him,
With absolutely no aim!

Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya