To her comrade by Rishika Marethia

It was a night, as deserted as,
An island to the wanderer, when
A moon too lit to obscure, witnessed
A little girl sitting beside the window
Glancing at her void little hands,
The dusky night resembled
A quilt, beneath which she
Shivered out of chills.
The rustling of a Raven’s wing
Could be heard afar, when
The blistening thunder
Broke her reverie
As the tree by the window halted her vision
Her eyebrows began a quest with
Her eyes letting a mournful sigh,
Why am I not a tree?
Why am I not a tree?
She asked the grand visage of the tree,
Don’t you feel cumbered
With climbers climbing all
Over you, Has there never been
A squall so strong, when you
Too did bow, but couldn’t find
A home, I saw you tossing,
Twirling around, those wounds on your barks
The branches on the ground
He made you too writhe in pain
Isn’t it true? Oh dear Comrade
I too want to become like you but
Whenever I tried, I failed
Tell me your secret, Tell me too
How do you sustain the ugly hues
Never being tired you continue
To give the shed, the fruits, the oxygen indeed
Don’t you have tears? Or you cry
With the clouds
She cried and cried and yelled throughout
But then she stopped
And heard it say
Dear lil bud!! I too feel frail
Sometimes like a sloth, sometimes like veins
Smiled to my ups and sighed when downs came
I miss no emotions which are just mine
I too feel the stasis you have been through
But I am a tree, I don’t have
Shoulders like you. I stand like
A pillar in the storm. When things have
Harmed my poor soul, I too got drowned
Though stood like a pole.
My scars are my beauty that everybody admires
It pricks inside but I can’t feel
Tired. My sluggish trunk mourn
Often at times, but I don’t have tongue
Like you to yell at times
I don’t have knees so
I never bend, and
The broken branch
Can be regained
You are much stronger
Stronger than me
I saw you stood beside them
Like a tree. Oh dear bud!
You too are a tree!
You too are a tree!