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Nayana Nair Jan 2018
I have to sit quiet,

Wait for the wind

To blow away my tears before they fall.

I have to keep watch

On what I say, what I think.

Even in my sleep, I can’t betray myself.

Gulp each cry, each word I speak,

To be dropped off on a paper no one reads.

Everyone wants a rock to hold onto.

A quick mire, no one needs.

For what do I owe

This heartbreaking happiness?

This eternal river of tears?

For my love, my ego and my fears.

Who can I turn to?

Who can I blame?

For these sad affairs and my sorry state.

My story is better unwritten.

My sorrows untold.

People are fed up of giving sympathies after all.

Bound by the choices, by free will, I made.

I do not have the liberty to complain.
Nayana Nair Jan 2018
In the park , by the bench,

There stands a tree,

Which has seen innumerable seasons pass

and innumerable humans pass,

Seen their laughter and tears dissolve into past.

With ‘its’ fresh new leaves lost to fresh fallen snow

And ‘its’ dead fallen leaves on the ground

Walked upon by dead fallen souls.

Lost ‘its’ fruits to cruel season and hungry mouths.

Stripped away of ‘its’ branches and its pride.

‘It’ stands there now, not noticed by an eye.

In the dew covered grass

‘It’ feels my steps.

In he morning fog

‘It’ hears my cries.

I feel ‘it’ looking down on me

And wondering

How my loss is more important than ‘its’.

Simply because

‘It’ suffered everything in silence.
  Jan 2018 Nayana Nair
She Writes
My head says
You were never mine to lose

My heart says
I lost you all the same
  Jan 2018 Nayana Nair
grace
we are
star-crossed;
cursed to walk
divergent paths--
yet we linger at
a crossroads,
fingers threaded
together like
fate's strings,
hoping (in vain)
that hell
would be
kind.
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