Transgressions

Transgressions of a silent type

All that happens is silence, with resilience 

Memories cleansed by wailing 

Thus, surrendered to the flow

There’s not much hope in the morrow

Sorrow, the world joins 

All that negativity could gather

The courage to be curious 

About a feeble heart; waylaid

Whispers become crisper

Cuts mercilessly through the silence

Changes are uncertain 

But time is inimical and clinical

Meek guards cannot defend

Drink from the baneful rivers

Fatal! Transgressions are turmoil

~Amitav