Skip to main content

I wait...






I know not what I lack,

I know not why I cry,

Since the day you are gone

Everyday I die.

Passing through a dark phase,

I do not know if it will end.

Telling my bleeding heart

In this phase I must blend.

“Saying sorry will not do”,

That is what you told,

But to endure your absence

My heart is not that bold.

I have nothing that

Money cannot buy,

But now these words

Seem so wry,

For I can not have you,

Standing by my side,

I begged you that day

But you did go away,

My faults did not give

You a reason to stay,

I should have stopped you,

I can not bear this pain,

Yes, I need you

To be in my life again,

I put my hand on my chest,

And claim today,

I will wait for you

Till my death day,

In heaven we will meet,

This promise I will keep.

Please, come back to me

How long will we weep?

Forgiveness I ask for,

Before you, my soul stands,

My head is down and

I am with folded hands.

Restless I am not,

I state this with faith,

From today till forever

For you I will wait...


Comments

  1. sure he will come.....
    your words can't make him away from you.....

    anooppt

    ReplyDelete
  2. wonderful poem,
    superlike
    --Gunjan Sinha

    ReplyDelete
  3. Hello Sanhita
    To be honest, dont remember how i got here...but glad i did :)
    Very heart warming posts. U got me glued totallly!!

    ReplyDelete
  4. When your pain starts flowing through your words, understand you are on the right track... great potential and calliber... u gotta go a long way.... so dun let the spirit die...!!! Hope to have u as my co author in some of my novel some day...!!! All the Best!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks a ton Siddhartha,, I would love to :) keep visiting.. :)

      Delete
  5. Touchy…Nice to see such young Writer is coming in this Writing Arena…And “I will wait for the next one”

    ReplyDelete
  6. Touchy…Nice to see such young Writer is coming in this Writing Arena…And “I will wait for the next one”

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Liebster Blog Award I and II

So I just found it out today that  Geeta Nair  ( http://geetaavij.wordpress.com ) nominated me for  THE LIEBSTER BLOG AWARD  (liebster meaning “favourite” in German, which reminds me of the first German sentence I learnt - ich liebe dich :-D ) last year.  Also on the same month of November 2013, I was nominated for this award by  Bhavya Kaushik  ( http://bhavyakaushik.com / ) too.  I understand that I am too late in honouring the two nominations of the Liebster Award  but I am a big  fan of the saying – “ better late than never” , so I am going to accept it anyway. Rules of receiving the award : • To accept the award one must link back to the person who nominated him/ her. • Nominate 10 more bloggers who you feel are deserving of more subscribers. • Answer all questions posted by the nominator. • Create 10 questions for the nominees. • Contact the 10 nominees and inform them that they have been nominated for this prestigious award. I further nom

Tears of blood

[ The poem is written as a tribute and encouragement to the unfortunate rape victims of the society who are fighting every day to live with dignity.  This poem is published in  Read In Park ] Never had known pain, As I do now… Never knew what grief is, But I do now… When the morning sun knocks on my window, I weep silently recalling that loathsome night, When the rays fall on my wet pillow, I wail in self pity ending another sleepless night. Every morning I look into the mirror To see the detested face, Robbed, touched, raped, I now loathe my every single trace. I had begged for help, Had cried for mercy, But no one took a single step, That night to rescue me     They jeered at my pain, Laughed at my plight, “Men” they called themselves Those beasts of that night The fear that arouse in me, I fear it may bring my death Growing day by day, It questions my each breath The bruises on my face will heal, But the trauma ev

"Are You a Lesbian?"

“Are you a lesbian?” A friend of mine once asked me mockingly when we were discussing about my aversion from some (“some” not “all”) kind of men. “No. But does it matter?” I asked her scornfully. No, I wasn’t bothered that I was asked a question about my sexuality. But what I didn’t understand was that is being a lesbian a matter to be jeered about? What if I was one? Wouldn’t I be hurt and embarrassed that my sexuality was just mocked at? Why are the words “gay” or “lesbian” used as slangs? Another incident, that took place a couple of years back, was when I was teasing two girl friends of mine, accusing them of having an affair. I considered it as normal as teasing a guy and a girl. One of them found it so disrespectful that she, instead of simply denying the fact, chided that she isn’t of such “third class” standard. I later discussed the small argument that we had, with her, trying to make my point that being a lesbian or a transgender doesn’t define anyone’s cla