The Last Waltz

Chandelier glimmer and sculptures of ice,
Gold banners and curtains of lace,
Oh, there's a staircase now,
And it only goes down.

I see scattered pearls and footsteps left behind,
Sense the warmth of hands on the banister,
And I wonder who went down,
And never came up.

I hear violins and the piano play,
I hear the sirens' promises ring in the air.
The smell of some grand feast wafts up,
And I'm bewitched. 

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If There Were More Hours in the Day

Oh, I'm waltzing down,
Down this wicked set of spiraling stairs,
That goes down and down,
That feels eerily familiar.

Oh, I'm waltzing down,
Marvelous and alone in this careful dance,
Nobody really bothers,
Nobody sees me go down.

Or they do,
As they stand at the head of the stairs,
Like I once did,
Contemplating the search of peace and something nice.
And maybe they too wonder,
Like I once did,
If anyone ever came back,
From this magnificent spiral that only goes down.

Maisha Nazifa Kamal has lost track of time and is living in a world where she never existed. Break her reverie at 01shreshtha7@gmail.com