There Is Still Some Water Under The Bridge
Underneath the sparse spate brow of sphere
I reencountered the tinted swarthy arena
It was the same old place now got different
And alluded me of the eluded meet with a cut back
When I zapped my ignorant sense back to the present sight
I intrigued, there was still some water under d bridge.
I hauled my breath into the slacken fleet switch
Found a vision free from mired swoosh of old past
Not much the past was old but now seemed rotten
For not a single whisper was enticed with clicking laughter
But was twitching my ear with an obnoxious eloquent silence
And then it intervened, for there was still some water under the bridge.
Did the wet drought heaved on the high spirit of life
Or the dense rain splashed off all the love that once stayed
No leaf now swayed in the entranced rythm of a sheen aura
No tweet was heard or seemed nesting on the now haunted trees
Just when my eyes were followed by the moist requiem of the demise
I felt like, there was still some water under the bridge.
All my heart was craving for was a single soul to listen,
A single heart to feel, a single leaf to be seen,
A single love bird to tweet, a single tree to breathe to roots
Or at least a pair of eyes breathing through the tears now got dried
I nearly collapsed in my own fear of loosing myself to the anguish woe
Just when i sensed, there was still some water under the bridge.
Nothing was left to breathe, nothing seemed to live indeed
Every inch of a kind was brushed into the suffering hearse
A shattered path, a broken bench, a frail soil, a silent wind,
A timid bridge and I amid the pathos scraping for a remnant life
Moving down the lane, under that timidness, in a cove of panting secrecy
I finally found, there was still some water under the bridge.
I drove my insane conscious under the shed of the grief rooted inside me
Where I became itself mare a share of all the dreadly hopeless aura
Until I went down the lane of my innermost will nesting in my soul
And found a drop of hope bringing my deadly painful soul to life
Enough cried, enough in agony I had reside, enough had felt hopeless inside
Now the time came to rejuvenate a cast directed path build up to my dreams
For I finally knew, there was still some water under the bridge.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
This poem is more written to its hopeful depth.
When after seeing the destruction on the ground level, I go down to the core and find the last drop of hope nesting inside me.
Hence, I know I can still get out of the fiasco creating a new path towards my dream.
Because I'm worth it! !
Comments about this poem (There Is Still Some Water Under The Bridge by Rakshita Gupta )
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