Inject and infect
The love in my veins
To surrender the pain
To be lost in your aim.
The infection is not in the blood
It’s in the mainstream of the love
The soul wants the cure
In the form of art of love.
Inject and infect
The passion in my words
To compose a diary entry
Of an affair to be remembered
As the memories of the day.
The infection is visible
In the composition
Created with a flow of thoughts
To be read in person
To be lost in the meaning.
Inject and infect
Me up and down
With the stretch of your silence
Provoking me to ask the reasons
Behind the unheard voice.
Is infection a myth
Is the mind affected
With the negativity
Of the world!
Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar
PHOTO BY PEXELS
