To Quill the Mocking World


Vishala Rao

(5 min read)



dusk is a dame, she glides through the cedar wood
she kisses the frost and hides it in her hood
wandering the forest..with her sunlight cape faltering
oblivious to my presence, she discovers herself dissolving

oblivious of her dying, at my behest
i am the fog and she is my demure amorous conquest
slain at my feet, i peck her a final sad goodbye
she annihilates in the love in which i subtly thrive

the north gale keeps prying the trees, for our stories to evoke
while i crouch atop the a whiff of melonacholic smoke
waiting for the day to retreat steps back her alley
i spread my mystic tendrils through the lonesome valley

the will o the wisps let out a cry and whisper
the touch-me-not shrivels and the love-in-the-mists shiver
the lazy ants hide further deep in the burrow
while the antelopes weep in pain and sorrow

i drink the sunlight and devour the moon
stir the heart of angels and demons alike
i claim the mountains and wail like a mad wolf
for her loss that made the entire cosmos aloof

like a wandering placid moon, i forge ahead by going back
to her dimples and her secrets coveted in my knapsack
i survive the world..i reign the deep and the dark
i have no love…i m no mist
i am the fog..i hold mountains in my fist

(Image credits)

Vishala is a guest author at Soulgasm.

(Click here to read our first book “Mirrored Spaces” : A poetry and art anthology in English and Hindi with contributions from 22 artists)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


This entry was posted on October 15, 2016 by in Poetry and tagged .

Blog Stats

  • 99,704 times visited

Top Rated

%d bloggers like this: