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N/A | Rubnoor Kaur Oberoi

Inside this visually stimulated video game,

I have my first Robert Frost moment—of my undoing.

It is the cerebral capacity of spiralling,

With molecules collapsing, an event of my undoing.

Dense-ing the abyss more & more each breath,

Thought sinks into gravity, agent of my undoing.

Cosmetic figure looming in a reasonless land,

Chants of porcelain shers, torment—of my undoing.

(The (alleged) love of my life is the cause—

He toys with my doll with the intent of my undoing.)

A pin pricks for each sigh this life exhales,

That threads passion, a lament of my undoing.

Diving feet first in situations since birth

A pattern too familiar, advent of my undoing.

This supposedly clean skin tells no stories,

An un-lived body, marks the descent of my undoing.

The iota of life that reeks of mortality,

Even sweetness carries the scent of my undoing.

‘Noor’ no longer holds His beauty for answers, 

Silence instils in the tomb, a testament of my undoing.