Guest Writer Spot

This week, I’m delighted to welcome back Indian writer, Gopika N with another stunning poem. Here’s a little bit about Gopika in the writer’s own words:

“Myself Gopika.N and I am from Kerala, the southern tip of the largest democracy in the world-India. I am, right now, 17 and am a science student. Though least interested in learning science, I am forced to complete the basic education. I have been writing short poems since my childhood. All the emotions brimming in me is reflected in most of my poems. Besides creating poems, I am also addicted to reading fiction as well as writing articles.”



Gopika N

In the valley of despair,

full of aught, but strange thoughts,

Where darkness wrapped the welkin

and silence ruled the fields,

a mere lonely soul,

walking in solitude.

The lush green grass,

swayed in the breeze

as the melancholy of the soul,

swooped in the puff.

Prickly paths were those,

yet she felt as snowflakes,

as pain was all around,

utter pain was ruling her.

The valley seemed serene

as the being strolled calmly.

But the wrath of the thunderstorm,

strikes in her tiny blue eyes.

Burning tear drops were,

rolling down her cheeks,

with tons of strange tales

and those unheard fables ,

ceased in the dark soil.

Amidst the eerie nights,

she saw a million dreams.

So insane and absurd were those,

which burnt into grey ashes.

It shook her and broke her

and made her forlorn.

It made her ramble in dismal.

In this wacky world,

some folk addressed her frantic,

some others threw dirty looks.

She attempted to think,

but her thoughts also seemed like,

left out empty pages.

Death denied her invitations,

and left her ravaged in the streets.

She started crawling away from,

the sight of the common man.

And here at the valley of despair,

were an end seems miles away,

her anticipations are numb.



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