Poems

I Die Down – Poetry by Khyati Gautam

I touch the blade

when I say, almost unabashedly,

a spade for a spade.

I lose my way

in the tyrannical voices

that reek of pretense

and an unhappy gaiety.

I make up my mind

Every single day,

To read a lot,

To stitch my armor

To move in the alleys

With my head held high.

Alas! I am dismayed

Because of…

Of torn pieces, Of clashes,

Of bickering, of hogwash

Of a fight, I put up against me

Of a battle, I lose within me.

I am dismayed

At who I am becoming

Listening to the voices

that surface every day

To further their motives,

And die down

With a filthy smirk on their faces.


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6 thoughts on “I Die Down – Poetry by Khyati Gautam

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