Poetry

A repressed scream. 
Someone breaks the head. 
I was hitting the wall. 
 
The rape hurts. 
Withers away the dam. 
River was changing the course. 
 
It was very pompous; 
the benign torture. No 
more I belong to this world. 
 
And the dilapidated 
houseboat floats on the lake 
to collect the immersed- 
 
bones of ancesters. A 
door opens. The poem prints 
the pain of centuries.