Finding Joy 

Prakarati Singh

In the darkest alleys, blinding spot of joy emerges and vanishes,

Where do I knock, traces diminish and

Future loosens its illusionary grip.

Kept knocking, till knuckles bleed.

Weariness of my state, knocking with vehemence, 

even if it pours, melts and gets cold.

For once the mighty infinity let me say "joy are you home", 

If so, shall we walk in the streets of Williams' Fort, where my known lives.

A graceful defeat for a painful search.

I kneel down to accept the blow of perpetual melancholy.

For once the mighty infinity, let me see joy and

In a godly hour the final breath and my last blink, 

I would smile to have made an acquaintance with joy.

Until then,

The knock for search of joy was a sinking ship,

Where it was always to feel and never to find.

*

Prakarati Singh an Indian writer, she has had pieces published in Indian Periodical, Monoumousumi, Avani Journal and is also Co-author for Poetry anthology by Hatchegg Publishing.

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