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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