The Dead End

I walked into a new color
I had bought after an unyielding bargain
at an intricate market of my time.
I moved into the suit
made from cloth of hollow thoughts.
I fit myself in the narrowness of sleeves
to prison me
to suffocate the daisies of my creamy skin.
The glitter inside me isn't seen.
So fine design of my body
in not visible.
The world of your sense
sees me as a body
kept safe in the cover.

These cloths are
cut into myriad shapes.
These linens are
stitched into innumerable designs.
The fabrics of temptations
are of trillions of colors.

I ache all over to see
zillions of people
entering into the caves
of these alluring covers.
To fall into an abyss
of never return
and to celebrate it.

I sense the smell
of dead end
stuck to my clothes
and marvel at the
the mad celebration.


copyright Mukul Dahal 2006



Poetry by Mukul Dahal
Read 816 times
Written on 2006-11-17 at 18:54

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Amanda K
it's quite vague . still can't tell what is the main theme but i liked how you attached the end with clothes and colors and how you felt it with all your senses.well-written.

regards,
2006-11-28