Posted in Poetry

Their Demons

Be right here with me

Counting the span of your interests,
Keep changing, none did ever last,
You play with them, toss them away
Like the rythm in chest which beats so fast.

Won’t you filter out your wrong deeds?
Beloved throw away them, all bad memories.
For I’ll never let them be the seeds,
The foundation of the future trees.

Don’t let those voices rule your mind
Of the demons, we each have our own.
Do justice to your inner soul,
We always reap what we’ve sown.

Become a part of the air in my lungs
I’d need it till my last breath.
If I wanted to stop breathing now,
I’d want my days with you till death.

©Nimisha Sharma



A small town girl who studies in the normal times, the other high times, she creates herself and the downtime is for putting the experience into words. Writing about things, imaginations, reality, etc.

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