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  • Writer's pictureAadhya

The Death


I meet you in

my own enigmatic and

heinous ways.

I take a part,

Or, the whole of your life,

without a hint.

People say I’m dramatizing it,

perhaps, just making it drastic.

Some call me insane.

People pray to not see me,

you even escape me, God,

do I love that little challenge?

But, you do wish for me

at some phase of your life.

I do not come to you when

you desire to have me.

I come to you,

when you are living the most,

like a rush of those painful memories

you tucked away safely

in the back of your mind. Surprise!

Not just that, I am also an addiction,

I am the pain that poets need,

the veil of darkness that makes the world

balanced, the depression

that makes you appreciate

the importance of someone.

I am the change,

that someone needed so badly.

Even though I am impetuous,

And unwelcomed:

I am astonishing.

I am a conundrum.

I am irreplaceable.

I am the truth you wouldn’t want to ever believe.

Lastly, to all those who blame themselves,

for meeting me, directly, or indirectly

listen: it is not you. It is them.


Written and Curated by Aadhya

[Picture from: UnSplash]


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