Miss Emma

She had a group of really close friends. Seven months back, a new member had joined her group. Miss Emma was now an integral part of their group. She was especially fond of Emma, and ever since their first introduction, they had become inseparable. Emma had always been there for her during all the bad times that she had faced in the last seven months. Emma always made her feel good, and she couldn’t imagine life without Emma.

Shortly after Emma’s introduction, the friends joined a business venture. Their choice paid dividends quite quickly. The business was running smoothly, customers weren’t much of a problem and the bucks kept rolling in. Being an indispensable part of the business, Emma deserved a fair share of this income. However, they had run into trouble now. Hostile elements were on the prowl. The stakes were high. Emma wasn’t looking too helpful either, but the group thought of Emma as being too important to do without. She, especially, shuddered at the mere thought of their separation.

The bad times had begun. She was getting affected. She had become thinner, would have regular hallucinations and would often wake up in the middle of the night, soaked with sweat. Then she started having problems with breathing. She was going through painful times, and the hostile elements were also always around. When two of her group fell into the hands of the hostile elements, their business collapsed. She desperately tried to take control, but was unable to do so. She couldn’t take it any longer. The dream was over. But she knew that Emma was there for her.

The next day, the police found her dead, with revolting syringe marks on her arm and a bottle of Emma, or morphine, solution. Miss Emma. Her best friend, till the very end.

Throbs and Beats

My heart’s pumping more than just blood through my body and brain
Thoughts drench me from within, like cascading rain
Something so overpowering, it leaves everything else slain…
Just how much more of this can I take, can I sustain?

Long way to go to stop all this, it’s causing internal outrage
It’s pounding with the mighty beats of a drum against my ribcage

It throbs and beats, it throbs and beats…
Pushes my progress into hasty retreat

I feel an urge to rewind in time, a craving to go back
to go and do something I wanted to but didn’t, or fetch something I lack…
I feel like I’m losing cohesion, like I’m going slack
Asking myself questions that make me lose track

Long way to go to stop all this, it’s causing internal outrage
It throbs and beats with the mighty beats of a drum against my ribcage

I want to stop madly rejoicing every speck of light for the fear that I’m going blind
I’m trying to harden myself against the weird wanderings of my mind
I slowly recover, gain my consciousness…
The real world drives out my self-created emptiness…

I glance through the book of my life, find reams of empty sheets
and gradually continue filling them up while it throbs and beats.

Shards

I took off my shoes and flung them away
Over a distance of several yards
And overconfidently sprinted halfway down
A path embedded with crystal shards.

Their blinding glint would make it easier
For disaster to bushwhack me,
To add to my feet getting pierced
And causing agony.

I think about the aftermath,
Then about the thick, firm sole each shoe hath…
They wouldn’t yield to even the most gruesome wrath,
And could vanquish the zillion crystal shards on the path.

I tread back to the shoes,
Cautiously, but with newborn zeal,
Fetch them and strengthen myself
As my wounded feet heal…

I return to the path of the splinters of glass,
Big and small, forever ready to harass…
Now armed with all the resistance that I did amass,
Cent percent ready to show my true class…