Trying to succumb,
The excruciating torment,
Perhaps I am numb,
From the ailment.
I flub,
To cling on to you,
Strived, though,
For affection,
But what I gained,
Is the wrench.
written by Sushmita Nanda
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The Dwellers Post Issue No 3
PoetryThe time between winter and spring, humanity lost in sorrows, -spirits surviving. The drought of rage is now up to us. The Dwellers Post edition includes works of different genres, illustrated narratives in fiction, creative nonfiction, short storie...
