Bearish Soul: A Poem by Amrita Mallik

There’s morning occurring every single day,
There’s reddish dawn, peeking in, I can see,
But what is missing from my sight, I brood upon,
O, that, much sought-after hope doesn’t appear!

I’ve become skeptical and bearish,
Will someone take that extra effort,
To stick the last leaf on the dying branch,
And, restore that spark, and that warm light?

Every morning is rolling without any moss,
Yet, still can’t scourge the one deposited,
By the wrecking times and dastardly men,
Playing with the lives like children’s toys.

Though multiple rays enter through the shards,
My broken heart still can’t comprehend anything worthwhile,
Why this deliberate blindness and apathy,
Disorienting me every moment, as I stand out-of-place?

When there’s no hope there would be a miracle,
Somewhere within, I feebly and tremulously approbate,
Perhaps that’s why every night I still earnestly plead,
And, the morn harbors a wait and a vow.