Melancholic
It seems blue everywhere,
like the bodies of the dead.
I seem to be scared of it,
as a child, of the boogeyman.
It urges me to doubt
the reality of this dreadful dream.
What is it that I bore
so seamlessly within my mind,
that hinders all the thoughts within?
Is this an end like Hamlet's tragedy?
Or am I the Abhimanyu in the Padmavyuha —
for my heart possesses no hope!
- S Hiranmayee Srinivasan (BA)
How do you pour such heartfelt blood into letters??❤
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