Emina Singh

in d midst of storm,my feet r still.
each breath choked,my voice is mute.
i m the mirror n its drugged reflection.
fallen from grace,hiding bhind a tainted self.
lost myself,like a noisy storm,it echoes inside.
like d devil it shakes me up.
i try to collect the shattered pieces of my soul.
n i realize
i m my modesty,m my own veil
m d tainted,m d torn.
from an untouched soul to d untouched modesty.
how do i look myself .
i m ended,m ceased.
m black,m white.
m d sand in d rainless cloud.
m d darkness of d night, the flicker of the flame.
m a dream,an apparition.
scared of my own shadow,
like a damp twig ,i burn,i sear.
m d illusion,m d shade.
m d flesh,m d soul.
m still.
m mute.
m resolved.
yet even after all dis.
m still the woman of the nyt.......EMINA
                         IN SHORT,M JUST EVERYTHING DAT EVERY1 WANTS TO B ,BUT NOTHING FOR ME AT THE END