These castles above were built from the underground…
In these sewers, under the palace,
a little of the bread is served
with a little of the paradise
trying to turn it to heaven,
piece of the hell, they have gotten
Teaching their kids,
these castles above
were built from the underground.
[This poem came to me when I was reading about the Russian revolution. Not commenting on what’s wrong or right on the Moral landscape, neither do I consider myself competent enough even to differentiate between the two, but I deeply revere the Stoicism in the last three lines and wanted to point towards it.]
a day after
picked up from the streets
wasn’t affordable yesterday
It’s heaven on the footpath tonight
The dying wish of a wounded bird
to fly high, out of this painful world
will come true soon.
[This piece comes from a desirable fiction of mine. Whatever death is, I hope, it turns out to be something which someone was always looking for.]
— Pranay Uniyal
I am also a somewhat shy poet, wanting to explore an audience for my work.
Hopefully, you will find my poems worth giving a chance… If not, I would really love to hear your feedback to hone my art.