Ancient fear

In response to the Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge at the GodogGO Cafe


Those languid branches of the wild oak
pickled in the snow
are riddled with
the worries of the harsh winters

Deep in its thoughts
of unspoken fear
of the flight or the fight
I sit here,
near the window sill of my old apartment
giving it a second chance
to scrape away
those sullen memories off my mind

which has cast an impression all these years
the unexplained trepidation
which sits neatly in the folds of my mind
knotted with the worries of you
leaving the threshold
and never looking back

I’m trapped in my ancient fear
of those days soaked in my tears
in my heaving bosom
when love leaves and never returns.

–Megha Sood

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