POISON
The taste of which I never heard of
The source of which I never know of
The pleasure of which I never realise of
Unless it touch my tongue with burning sensation and scroll down my throat as a bitter medicine
And
It reminds me of all the sweet memories.
It reflects the image of what I have become.
It rises the urge to rectify myself.
And
It sparks my wish to live again.
But
Alas!
It's too late now.......
Pratiksha 9800
