The Squared Dead Squeeze of the Wasted Effort

Walls all around me
Corners that point 90°
The edges come closer and closer
No gap
No break
No cut
No opening
Just a dead end
Running pillar to post
East to west
Zig- zig round and round
Banging walls
Silent cries
no one hears
Deafening silence
Buzzing in my head
Is that the ceiling coming down?
Or the floor rising up?
Soon to be smashed into nothing ...ok...fine...
Inspite of trying...
Brilliant but wasted efforts..... yet
I'll die first and then maybe I'll quit?
Maybe.

His Footsteps and Her Yellow Garland For Her Gods

The footsteps that remain on the sand fleet away,leaving no traces of the person who once was, an impression,a memory,
Some would utter and reminisce
"he would walk this way to work, turn around and wave to her,
And she would forever wait for him,
Pick flowers in her garden to string together a yellow garland for her Gods and Their blessings,
Their protection for him to be safe,
For her to hear his swift and strong footsteps back home ,
For the bell to ring,
For having a warm meal together,
For the playful night to come,
For the happy sun to rise ,
For him to wave to her,
For her to forever wait for him,
For her to pick flowers in her garden so that she could string together a yellow garland for her Gods."
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻