aS Featured: The Lost Bride

One who reads, writes. As promised, We keep bringing to you 'aS featured' where we publish select ‘arbit speculations’ submitted by our readers to us. Ujjwal Raghuvanshi brings to you a heart wrenching piece of poem this poetry month. Do you think you might have some long lost poem kept somewhere that might be worth featuring? Send it in to We're waiting, poets!

Door was ajar, waiting for the eonian night to end.                                  

Window was still, heralding the arrival of the moonlit breeze.
Still as the sun, she laid, her face trying hard to deceive the phantasms of her mind.

“Pas, laisse-moi” shot through the silence, she fell of the lair.
Once a pleasant face of a bride was now contorted with hapless fear.

Beads of sweat rolled down her marble skin; a shiver ran down her spine.
She knew her time was coming lest her conscience believed it.