Struck

My heart, a buzzing garden, 
 Buttercups brimming with manna, 
The bees drink to the dregs, 
The well of joy drained dry. 
When I am left to wander, 
With faltering measured steps, 
Through the ever crowded dark
A glow worm sneaks in, 
Trailing , slivers of light. 
I cling to the ray of hope, 
I ride it,brandishing the glimmer, 
Like a dawn struck gleaming rapier, 
To chase the monstrous dark, 
Out of my aphotic world. 
Alas! the lurking monster, 
On the glowworm fed, 
Leaving the fluttering life wounded. 
I am drenched in blood, 
Gushing out of the fountains, 
Springing out of the cracks, 
Criss crossed on the landscape
Of my rain abandoned heart. 
 Chandni. 

Fate

The last hope lies on the dust, 
The parched mouth latched onto the dried bust, 
The twisted fingers cleaving the air, 
Dying to claw open the sky, unfair. 
But the rain is out of reach, 
A forked soul, the heart abreach, 
A sudden gust of breeze, waylaid--
Stills sighs, grey and muted, 
Shiver-streaked,limbs jarred, 
Into a frenzy,shaken and stirred, 
The strain of a minstrel perched, Through it's veins quietly rushed, 
A grateful head bent but heart soaring, 
Stretches arms,to clouds pouring, 
Wash the gloom, glued to the skin, 
Feels the stir of the impatient green. 
Though the autumn,on it will again fall, 
Though winter-struck,it'll still stand tall,  
It will still wait for many more springs,
And the hues,each one brings. 
Then one day,it'll be lightening- struck, 
Rooted still, ghostly, charred, bone and bark! 
                        
Chandni