Amrit Poudel

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Published On: December 4, 2019 10:00 AM NPT By: Amrit Poudel

The Missing Soul

The Missing Soul

The urge to learn more
The urge to speak in front of the public
The urge to be at the top
The urge to not have the heart contemplate,
the feeling of being neglected
or being at the bottom
A glorious childhood I recall
The boy who showed true mettle

As the sleepless nights leaves me tremble
Contemplating and squinting
Over the fallen leaves, while the rain drizzle
Wet, deformed: no sign of life
I see the silver lining in the darkest clouds
A mere hope keeps me alive
That the soul of a childish boy
One day shall fill this void
and have me push myself
to the top, to the  center
and ask of me to smile with no disdain
and remind me,
the days of today shall carry some weight
as does the empty kettle
the stars shall align to your right
if you house yourself in a fine fettle

slammed, ,

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