Monday, 25 September 2017

Poetry 2017 Shortlist Neharika Kaicker

The Knives of Despair

Invisible to the human eye,
With a determination not known to the human mind,
Silently it preys deeper and deeper into the human body
A different make, a different style,
They all have their own knives,
Hidden not only from the whole world,
But also from their own minds
Some are razor sharp, penetrating deeper into the flesh,
Some have lost the edge, because of years spent penetrating the flesh,
Yet persistent they all are in their quest to win
Each to his own; in different ways they tear the souls of their makers,
Yet engraved on these knives are almost the exact same words,
These are the words of regret and grief,
Words of missed-opportunities, anger and scared souls
These are knives of different make and type,
Of lost times never to be revived,
Of dull souls who would never see the light,
Of ignorant minds who would never know the meaning of life
These are the knives of despair,
Its marks never to be seen on the human body
Just engraved on the souls that stay in those bodies

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