Abstract Immortalities

I look at the random frames on the wall,
Each of them a different story in itself;

The feminine silhouettes come alive,

In the melancholic nights of insomnia.

I wonder staring at them for hours,

What if they really come to life someday?

Their sketched edges with new breathing cells, 

I move into a trance finding adjectives in my mind.

The scarlet hue of the wall...

Reminds me of that dark dusk,

When I failed to find any left-over colour in the paint tube

And given life to my canvas with blood.

As it oozed out of the tip of my right thumb,

I drew abstract lines that turned blackish red in a while.

Very wisely they have said...

To create something,

You have to destroy yourself.

I'm waiting for the night when...

I fall asleep somehow,

And the mysterious silhouettes wake up.

Someday I too shall become immortal,

In a frame like that on some wall;

Only to wake up on nights when...

The rest of the world is lost in slumber.

By Aryani Banerjee

Ex-Student (ISC 2006) & Author of the book Little Longer Than Forever.