Ishaisms, Poetry

Arid

My branches are hardened

the roots run deep

no matter how I try

they won’t lose their grip…

Degenerate, dejected, dry

I thrive in the barren heath

silence is my cry

I suffocate underneath…

Sucked of all joy

springtime warmth is an enemy

I crave not her smiles

her caress is my misery…

All leaves have left me behind

in the arms of the wind, carried,

while I remain, deserted and drained

while I remain…arid…

Β© Isha Garg

33 thoughts on “Arid”

  1. I’m very fond of such writing…placing words to a mood or feeling that may be cyclical but surely transient. Like the tides or the seasons, yet this tree is an obstinate one and prefers the hardened cold ground. Great artful sweet Ishu ….. ❀

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Transient like the tides… You said it ❀ Somehow, I knew you’d like this poem. You master the art of breathing life into seemingly lifeless things, resurrecting lost words etc 😊😊❀ Don’t know about artful, but ever grateful Ishu πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

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