She... Entry by Prasun Parashar, Great Lakes Institute of Management

Permeating sunshine exhausts into recurring darkness
And so in the cage with open door, she subsists.
With a vacillating will to move out and a need to return,
And the tragedy of desire, she inevitably earns.

The days, dark, and nights, vivid surreal
A wave of transient pain and evanescent ecstasy
A boat, a man and the lake of essence
No guide, no rower and the yearned presence

With her head raised, she looks into the blue
From the shimmer of sky comes a glimmer of understanding
But the moment will become moments, and the moments, days
And what’s alive in the living, steadily prays.

The door stands intercepting the two realms.
A rising ecstasy or a derived anguish.
The free will, if there ever was, is getting bereaved
And the time is moving on like a sentence reprieved.

But she still sees into the sky with an effort in her eyes,
A heart that is hurt & the faith, alive.
An argument led fallacy and a walk on rope.
An eye-lash wish and a resurrected hope.