STORM--award winner

STORM


Night is calm, the air is still;
I can hear the distant shrill
Of the cricket from afar
In the black darkness ajar.

No quivering of a leaf;
Silence of surrounding grief
Sings a silent warning tune
Of a tempest coming soon.


There will gather such a storm,
Of the vilest, wildest form,
Grimmer than the one most grim,
That will rip me from within.

It will shake my existence,
My heart, my wit, my conscience,
Render me empty and weak,
Turn me but into a freak.

Me, who was always so proud,
Me, who thought without a doubt,
None could, in love, play a part,
That would break my steely heart.

Alas! Though I am now wise,
I have paid a heavy price
To learn, a wisp of a girl
Can, for man, a storm unfurl.


* Written in aabb, 7-7-7-7 format
*Awarded Third Prize in Nikola's Poetry/Short Story Contest, "Invalid Item" , organized by Nikola~Asked Santa for a Pony! , May 2004.


M C Gupta
7 May 2004