Art And Culture

Isolation: Room for Silence

I am like the lonely tomb of the sad and isolated. 

Every now and then there is a fierce condemnation of false imaginations. 

The combination of artificial mechanics is now in my mind, manner and language. 

Since then spring has not brought a single flower for me. 

I just think about the meaning of life with a blank face. 

I feel pain because the promise will fail at some point.

Yet affection is practiced at home as a necessity of life. 

I sing the song of life again and again from fresh. 

Reluctantly wandering amongst all thoughts, still alone in my hidden pursuits. 

I rush to the border of dreamy happiness. 

The memories of the past are dimmed by the obsession of loneliness.

I do not know when I started loving the cursed loneliness. 

Today in the midst of chaos I still search for You, my lonely heart

Sarmistha Dey

Sarmistha Dey is an Indian Diaspora staff reporter at WFY, Bahrain bureau. She is an experienced HR and media professional. She is a poet as well as a singer.

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