the pink shade of failure

the little room

the one with the small window, yes

laptop with mechanical sounds

plays soft music

to some strange obsession.

a wall of posters and notes

(full of hope)

painted over by the pink shade of failure.

the concrete beneath is porous

with hollows and entryways

to the steel;

it’s rotting away slowly.

the water of the sorrowful house

(full of fear)

tinted the red of rusted anger

eats away at the foundations.

the paint peels away

though it is not the only one

dying of neglect.

the broken dining table

(full of grief)

lies with no rainbow fruits.

it sits still.

still as the house.

still as the little room.

still. deathly still.

by rudraksh dange