I built a little heaven with the bricks of hell,
gave it a name you love
and called it ‘Ours’
Until one day i burned up
from the heat of the walls
and became a refugee
fleeing a forged paradise.
And maybe you won’t notice
the cracked walls repainted,
with a fading shade of red
close to my lifeline.
And maybe it’s time
the world finally says
not a whisper in the dark,
Out loud, under the sun
"To be abused is not love
not in heaven
not in hell
and certainly, not at ‘Home’.
by Nandhana SG
Nandhana is a 20 year old CA final student currently pursuing her articleship. Her admiration for the English literature can be traced back to a time when she was a starry eyed 7 year old kid who treasured the works of Mark Twain. She adores poetry and has always been in love with the works of Oscar Wilde and Edgar Allen Poe. She writes poems as a way to free herself from this fast-paced world.
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