Friday, 18 November 2016

Miss Mischievous No More

Gazing dismally into her bright, twinkly irises,
The devil itself, flickering, in their glittery fervor
Now, glancing aloofly back at me, devoid of even
A single, lone remnant of her effervescent past identity

Her trademark impish grin, that barred her excited self
Has bleached out to a thin, weary line
She’s undeniably drained and listless, her soul
Beaten to a paper thin.
Her lifeline, her ticket to popularity,
The defiant, disobedient exterior,
that described her, so well
At present, fading away to dissolute yes-nods

I long to reach out and rekindle
The blazing flames, that had been extinguished
When her pranks slid to an abrupt end;
When cruel, restraining chains fell upon her,
As she struggled against its merciless grip…
The cheeky devil, my ingenious friend,
A steadily gushing waterfall of mischief
Has been drowned, in the ocean of discipline

Just like how a tender green leaf, swimming in energy
And breathing in tireless spirit, slowly withers
Into a lifeless rustle of dull soiled brown
She has been stifled, her very essence quenched.
Now, as she raises her hand carelessly to make a stupid remark, I glimpse the uncertainty in her eyes.
She brings those wavering fingers rapidly down,
Frightened to be demeaned, yet again,

By firm, unyielding hands, ready to silence her. 
-Meghana

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