Twenty-Four Hours Poem by manisha singh

The night is frail
I am still

The Sun is rising
I am dreaming

There are two
Winding roads
One is paved
The other is dirt
One is lit
The other is dark

Imagine
At dawn
Dreams come
Crashing down

Imagine
Waking
With the horizon
And you lie in bed
Can’t pretend
Today will lend
No hand
To let you down

Afraid to step
Into the world
But you do
And you chose
There are two
Winding roads

Take me somewhere
And they say where
I say anywhere
As long as I move
I’ll end up somewhere

I am still
And I secretly wish
To be handed
A map
Which premeditates
My actions
So I
Come out
Without
A scratch
So the scar doesn’t
Follow like a horrid
Past

Our will
Our dream
Our aspiration
Our belief
Our reality
Make our destiny
The map
To our destination
All the roads
In the world
Can’t define
Because everything needed
Is still inside
Waiting for you

The sound of a tick
Every second makes
The minute count
Faster, faster
There are two
Winding roads
We are vehicles

I hear a roar
I am still
And not alone
My mind is
My companion
My driving force

When and if I crash
It is that
Which we cannot
Let decompose

If I froze
All that is
Possible
In this world
By me
Will be
In the cold
All that is me
All that is life
Will never make
It in the world

So…

I move forward

By Manisha Singh