The Cradle

Have you ever been tired of holding on for way too long?

Oh, I ain’t talking about you love, don’t get me wrong.

The silence of the dark sent a chill down my spine,

Yet, what terrified me was the deep, hungry ravine.


I held on, because I had to,

Not because I wanted to.

Was there anyone I had to live for?

A question I never had the answers for.


I was once told, “Moments before you first meet her,

Every memory trapped in your heart would stir.”

And at that moment, I decided to hold on and live,

For all that pain and suffering I could not relive.


But then, my hands go numb,

To hopelessness I succumb.

In a few seconds, with her I’d meet,

I let go, as a sign of defeat.


My understanding of gravity confused me that night,

Either that, or Albert Einstein was unmistakably right.

I began to relive those old and painful memories,

I had long hidden away in the pages of my diaries.


Her invigorating scent, like earth and white lily,

Her hypnotic voice, from lands cold and hilly.

Her longing eyes, as black as obsidian,

Her gentle touch, leading me into oblivion.


I landed feet first, the jolt making its way up to my brain,

My bones shattered, far too quickly to feel any pain.

Blood vessels burst open; haemorrhage consumed me,

Kidneys tangled with intestines, not that anyone could see.


My teeth were broken, my eyes popped out,

The femur was in pieces, evidently jutting out.

My rib cage collapsed, puncturing my lung,

My mouth was bloody, as was my tongue.


The jolt shot up to my brain, snapping my medulla,

For the first time, I felt pain in my amygdala.

My ear membrane was torn, blood dripping from my chin,

My nerves snapped, and my head began to spin.


And suddenly there was peace and tranquility,

As if I were blessed by the purest of the divinity.

And to begin my journey, I took my last breath,

As she put me in her cradle called death.

Karthik K R

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