The alphabets with broken-wings are crying on the stairs....
at my touch they shrivel, crumble and shrink.
They slither down and break into fragments.....
at the bottom of the flight lovingly I lift their chin and give a look at their pale faces....
but they wail louder...
Soon they shut my door and slip out from everywhere
twisting and turning and forming the characters of fairy tales
knowing my childhood and breaking stories dear to me..

Their ink dripping on my hands I sit here helpless ....
holding the letters of my mind
a prisoner of my own words.....my own mind