The silent corridor

The corridor falls silent

no chirp nor whisper found...

in the adjoining classrooms and compartments

once bustled with sounds of brisk footsteps

vacant spaces now delineate saga of dread and fear

eerie silence speaks loud another time

smile hides face in the crevices of second wave

laughter is caught in the web of hung verdict

The swing no more giggles

nor bursts into peels of laughter

the strong bough looks weak and emaciated

having been deprived of cutie pies' innocent demeanor

The school bell does not ring

 nor does it send alarm for change of period

the desks benches rue their salad days

faintly sobs the black board

yet hope lurks...in the melodious oeuvre of cuckoos

perched on the adjacent mango tree

as they try regale our wretched souls

hope rides... the steps of horizon

pairs with dawn and morn

 sprinkles positivity in the vistas forlorn

faith too sprouts...

when the swing moves to and FRO to the tunes of wind

even if no one inhabits

a rhythmic whisper fills the silent zone

validates strong belief's desire to move on

for this winter is about to leave

and spring cannot be far behind.