Maybe it was an intoxication, that flowed within my veins
It has purified me,a cleansing poison!
Maybe it was a fire, my embers a gold of red
Annihilated me,and charred all nil !
Maybe it was lifeblood,so ever dissipated
That heart-wrung tears,are now an ink to doom !
Maybe it was a history,buried alive
Ghosts haunt still,all space and time…
Maybe it was a little cry,once ignored
Deafening silences,now are,to behold.
Maybe it was a tide,that swept along
To a place,where all hope,to long.
Maybe it was a heart,that once all loved
Pricked now,and all too cold..
But..
Maybe it is hope,that now
It can’t be worse ?
Maybe it is love,which lives beyond life !
Maybe it is faith,which shall enliven,like seeds just green!
Maybe it is care,like water to the lips of one anguished from thirst !
Maybe it is to know,like a starry light that guides.
Maybe it is passion,that sustains,when it all conspires .
Maybe it is me,reflecting,on the ‘maybe’ of it……
Ishita is a literature student, who reads, but only between the lines and mostly reads things that literaturestudents wouldn’t want to be seen dead reading. She gets bored easily and often takes refuge in using people close to her as objects to combat boredom. She likes to hit the kitchen once in a while, though it doesn’t mean she’ll actually cook, could just be catching on with the latest gossip or cribbing about something to her mom. She is sensitive, over-sensitive, hyper-sensitive, basically all kinds of sensitive. She loves to talk, that is probably why the last four lines are so full of commas and and(s). Do come back to hear from her again. She will be posting here every Wednesday! 
