by Neelam Dadhwal
The shadow drifts by a tree
of a passing butterfly
all that is remained
of a light,
nothing can lift it up,
stronger as the heavens
the years are struggle
and to look in the oblivion,
the world has names
mad or lame,
too insecure
with the memories
but to rummage my own brain,
my soul.
Copyright ©:
Neelam Dadhwal
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Neelam Dadhwal is a bilingual poet and Shahai artist from Chandigarh, India. After culminating her career as a web developer and administrator, she took writing as a full-time pursuit. She has penned since 2013 three poetry books and one short story book.
Last updated November 18, 2015