I clean up after my demons,

And when I'm almost done,

I glance back and I realise –

I'm running in a circle.

Running like a guinea pig,

Caught in an endless loop called life.

I live like an inanimate object,

Subject to someone's mindless experiments.

The cruelty and the frailty –

I don't think I want to live

Like this anymore.

I'm living through a cyclone,

I'm living through a storm,

I'm falling in the void,

Where's the golden life they promised me?

They lied.

I'm here at the bottom of the darkness.

I look up,

And I dare to hope.

And I dare to build stairs,

Made of threads of light

And hope, in my mind.

The writer is a student in class 9 at Manarat Dhaka International College.