Fading

Kushal Poddar

The fading begins,

and the tiny monkey

that hangs from the tree

in your forlorn rooftop scene

ghosts the twisted wind.

The strange light is actually

your eyes 

staring at all those strangers

walking.

Below a hallowed hollow grabs

every feet.

Beat it; fading begins.

Veil your heart; blood fades your flesh.

Bow you are

only a flow and nothing else.

Kushal Poddar is a poet and editor of ‘Words Surfacing’ magazine. He has also published ‘Herding My Thoughts To The Slaughterhouse – A Prequel’.