Parvin Shere

India

The Coffin

In the torn mantle of dense clouds,
The tired sun has snuggled itself to sleep. '
A bird is lost in its thoughts
On a branch of a tree.
The arctic wind hiccups outside.
The closed room appears
Confined like a coffin.
Only the window reminds me
That I'm still alive.
In the shackled sad-house of night and day,
I've been staring into the space for a long time.
The boundless fog of my thoughts
Spreads far and wide.
The sand of pain-filled time slips by.
Stone tears rain on the cup of my heart!
God, let someone take me out of my coffin.
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