It’s never gleamed tears of sweet delight
Mess of scars beneath my dreams
Twilight draws curtains close
Darkness sweeps in at the seams
Mere memory of your canny smile
Chokes and charms the cheeks of time
Pink blush splutters graciously
Gold flecks more and more my eyes
My sanity spirals in and out
Churning oceans deep and wide
Yet tethered to my many blues
I feel no dread pull at the tide
- Akanksha Gupta
We have words troubled with thoughts
That tremble with indecision
That tiptoe through unfunny bones
Before being steeped in precision
Yet ego scours substance
For paper town forget-me-nots
And intent, unless misdiagnosed,
Languishes as an afterthought
It’s a chicken-egg irony
Wrapped in a beefed up paradox
That in an era of diplomacy
Tolerance should be hitting the rocks
There are acts of courage
Powerful, undisguised, profound
Excepted from acceptance
Deemed exceptionally unsound
Oh it is hard to blame
Wherever would it fall?
Indeed it is hard to blame
If we should blame at all
It’s a chicken – egg irony
Wrapped in a beefed up paradox
That in an era of transparency
Honesty should be hitting the rocks
Arguments define the momentum that
The intelligentsia seeks to win
Yet their support is insidiously fed
Auctioned information
The unyielding grip of sanctions
Chokes the fair and free flow
So that the bias sowed in opinions
Gets steadily watered and ploughed
It’s a chicken – egg irony
Wrapped in a beefed up paradox
That in an era of self-discovery
The mind remains lost in thought
– Akanksha Gupta
The Pluming PoeTree 