by Mukund Gnanadesikan 


The closed door never opens

Unless a hand so brave

Can brave the darkness

Find the knob

And twist against

The forces of inertia

Fearful though they be

And thus the dark room

Stays inhabited

For days

Or months

Or lifetimes.


As I behold the crimson cracks

Besmirched with smears  of innocence

Cold, gray ghosts wail silently

We are but hungry wolves

Diving headlong into lusty meals

That stare back from a fright-house mirror

Do we survey what lies ahead

Or are we choked by blindness

With all our light extinguished?

The winged beast of justice

Flutters in the blustery wind

To crash perhaps, but maybe yet to soar.

About the Author:


Mukund Gnanadesikan is a poet and novelist currently based in Napa, CA. His literary influences are varied, ranging from Tagore to William Carlos Williams to Rumi. In non-writing hours he works as a child and adolescent psychiatrist. His previous works have been published in “Sheets: For Men Only” {Dancing Ink Press 2004] and he is currently working on a collection tentatively entitled “Scrawl” as well as a novel titled “Errors of Omission.”