Twisted Strings Poem by Ridhvi Sharma

There's a parasite in my brain
Slowly engulfing my nerves.
It seems to have been tangled itself,
How can I solve my own terms?
Every breeze the new air brings,
My ironical brain reacts and rusts.
Each day, each season,
I shed my innocence and lose my trust.
How, when, why and what
interrogations often knock at my casket when I lay straight.
When I fall in the clutches of circumstances,
Why do I become the bait?
These twisted and twined strands inside me,
put me to gasp for peace.
Scared to express my art on canvas,
for this world is a living-tease.
How can I escape this confusion?
Right seems false and wrong seems true.
What should I do,
As this demon inside me grew and grew?