House without Windows
I live in a house that has no windows. I don't know when the sky changes its colour, Or when the moon changes its shape, Or when the pink petunias bloom and die the cruelest death they tell me that it's winter who crumbles pitiful buds under its freezing cloak then again I think of me who is dying everyday inside this place where seasons do not put their steps on. I could feel neither the warmth of sun in winter nor chilly morning breeze in sweltering summer. But I could hear the big rain drops falling on the ground I could hear the heavy footsteps approaching and receding I could hear the birds chirping outside the wall And then I know that the sun is finally rising from its slumber The door infront of me is like a paradox Like Pandora's box makes me excited for the beautiful World and nervous for the way the world would react The house I live in has some obstinate stains, Stains of blood and unbearable pain. Chalk lines on the wall and some words of courage Mayb...