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Thursday, December 26, 2024

In a Prison

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Asmita Manandhar

My conscience sits in a prison
it cannot breathe, cannot make a decision
my love,
she presses her fingers between mine
pretending to make our own little barrier
and tell each other we shall be fine
I tell her, they may call us trash
but this time will move on
and we no longer have to prove them wrong
my love,
she smiles and wraps me around her arms
like nothing can touch us, no pain or harms
They say love is pure,
then why mine’s treated like a treason?
why can’t I love my goddess?
why is it beyond your reason?
my love,
she’s like the sunlight
a piece of heaven I can’t deny
how can something like that be a sin?
how can it be a lie?
oh my love,
she is truer than all the truths,
she runs throughout my veins
from my head to my roots

And yet,
my existence sits in a prison
and if they preach of nature,
then why for us just the cold winter every season?
I tell my love,
today our steps may be bleak
and in this darkness we may find ourselves weak
but my love,
someday we shall be out in the sun
and on the rainbows we shall ride
the universe shall stand witness
when we take vows to be each other’s bride

So, let their hearts sit frozen
and hope compassion will find a way
even though they keep them closing
my love,
we had a talk – me and my conscience
no more hiding for us,
call it my decision or defiance
my darling love,
don’t be shy now,
don’t live inside that veil anymore
cause you know I’ve been to hell and back
just to wait outside your door.

[Asmita Manandhar is a poet and journalist based in Kathmandu. By profession, she is a journalist associated with The Kathmnadu Post.]

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