Ghost of a Dead Belief

I Believed .
Those Beliefs are now swimming in front of my eyes.
Dripping in blood.
Their heads hacked off.
For a while I thought it was over.
And off I went, to cremate my dead belief.
There were others there too.
Like me and unlike me.
Friends and foes.
They are burning, faces in fire,
Melting, losing shape,
Consumed, but not purged,
It is strange.
The Beliefs were all colored.
But the ashes , an indifferent gray.
With the dying embers, I said a prayer,
"May its soul rest in peace",
But I had burnt the soul a long time before.
With this thought in my mind,
I made my way out,
Out of heaven's doors.
What I didn't notice, was the Ghost.
Following me, was the Ghost of my dear old friend !


By Stuti Chandra

This is a poem by my sister, who blogs here.