Companions of truth


Let it stay an imagined memoir,

Pictures on the wall,

That looks into eyes, deep, sinks in the heart,

It’s a fable,

I like to believe, my companions of creeks,

It’s a unrequited love story,

That brimmed underneath,

It’s all imagined and weaves,

It’s an imperfect mirage,

Every handshake that didn’t feed the warmth of the heart,

Smile that didn’t meet the eye,

Every socially obligated word of polite,

Let me save these hands by joining them in earnest prayers,

Let me not direct that smile,

Let me save that curve for innocence on a child’s play,

Let me meet in the openness of heart’s field,

Let me not hide the tears,

Let me falter and unknowingly hurt,

Let me show you the place to bury it in me


Let me share a silence golden,

If that’s all, we can share …..

Rupika Moitra

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