The lady in the Corner

She sits in the corner of the room

And watches me from there,

With her arms clasped around her folded knees

And her hair tightly tied up in a bun

Her eyes devoid of any emotion

And her face nauseatingly pale.

Her lips never move

Only sometimes they curl,

To form the crooked devilish smile.

And yet her eyes have the same hollowness,

The same characteristic emptiness,

In the depth of which you could fall,

And never return how hard you try.

You try too hard to come out,

Because you don’t want to stay there,

Those eyes remind you of the past,

Of the mistakes you made,

Of those you could have avoided,

Of the people loved,

Of the people lost,

Of decisions made,

Of those that were made for you.

I know she is looking at me,

Waiting for me to look back,

And acknowledge her presence,

The presence that I feel every moment of the day,

And yet never acknowledge,

I run away from it,

Run to the nature’s embrace,

To waters so deep and pure,

To geese that seem to dance,

To trees that sing,

To people who care.

But they don’t really care,

Perhaps neither do I.

Perhaps it is all an act,

A malicious drama of love and adoration.

Or just the misconstrued images of my own mind,

That never seems to stop running,

That never seems to stop questioning,

And then my mind reverses its role,

And consoles itself with the mighty words,

Words of optimism,

Phrases about destiny,

And tales of fairies.

Yet this time I find myself

Near the same corner.

And this time she gets up from her seat,

Walks towards me confidently,

Slowly, steadily, she looks into my eyes,

Stretches her arms wide,

Revealing her deathly magnanimity,

I move closer because I have no choice,

And Loneliness embraces me.