By Nabin Chitrakar
Thunder racked my body.
Stormy winds and dark clouds conspired
To wash me out with dead water.
The blow hurt my heart.
Brackish water spouted out of my eyes
To burn my cheeks like fire.
Passion’s impact shattered my dreams.
They floated like dry seeds
To never sprout again.
Disinterested, the land closed its eyes
Like someone meditating in fake communion.
[Nabin Chitrakar, (b. 1950 ) is a poet who writes in Nepali, Nepal Bhasha and English. He is also story writer, critic writer, screenplay writer, telefilm director and dramatist. His publication includes a collection of poetry in Nepal Bhasha: Swakumi Ji: Ji Duneya (Observer I’m: Inside me).]