Rusted, dilapidated you still lie
embracing the sun’s rays, the
warm stillness and the occasional
storms. Caressed by rough waves
and lone sands, you give company
to a ghost town, deep in slumber.
You no longer carry people or
their belongings, but bear their
memories. Your shattered and
mangled compartments hug the ground
where life once existed.
The shifting sea breeze casts
a mournful silence, though
it once hummed subtle melodies,
as you still lay, will forever lay,
as an epitaph of the disaster
and a remnant of the song.
Prarthana Vijayakumar is a poet of 14 years. She sees poetry as a window to her own world, with its own light and dark and hopes others can glimpse it too as she captures fragments of her world in her poetry.