(59) A Muscle pull
The transparent ice- cake melts to the floor,
the process of melting is easy,
your slow eyes construe it as a mirage,
your careless and confident tread, yet fall upon it,
the falling is like a curtain drawn.
you slowly muster courage to get up.
your fat body leans upon the supportive left hand,
The melted water on the mosaic mocks at you,
it is a puzzle to my thinking wizard , my mind,
why this happens, the pain increases in the mean time,
arresting my activity of mind and body ,
the hand that waves the tricolour flag,
The very hand that pulls the weight of many a burden,
now falls a prey to muscle pull and sprain.
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