The Blind Poem by ritwika raha

Deep behind the curtain thick
Lies a darkened room
Dwells an innocuous silence there,
In that speechless womb
Even the finest streak never invades
In that melancholy dank space
The muted vision wails aloud
To grasp the rampant race
Held in the shackles of blindness dark
Silent agony weeps aloud
But blindness dear mocks the tears,
And the sighted sightless crowd

Swarming fleas over grotesque cadavers
Mounting flames and spilling blood
Unceasing endeavors to fragment the face
By the odious envy's flood
What if we are sighted,
What if we are blind
All hearts little cowards,
Which nestles cowardly behind,
It sulks and waits for the others to rise
And the hours do nimbly decline
More fire and swifter the pervading awe
Still no swords, just fruitless babble and words malign…