Someone's Screams

Whose screams are these which are echoing high in the air,

How can its origin be found, it starts and ends cryptically in nowhere.

Although the echo is smoother, which simply collides with peak, then fades being weak,

The scream is harsh for which even the high mountains are an inverted trench that’s deep.

Here some dead ones awaken, there the awakened dead loses their life,

Screams would doubt whether humans actually live, or it’s a rumor which they rife.

Some shadows saving itself from world, get lost in more lonely dark,

Who would offer hand to the originator of screams in their world of deadly stark?

But why would I look out for the sinister screams on which I haven’t any right,

Is it because they look similar to pain which once even my anguished heart had cried?

How to console it, should I try by calling ‘dark’ as ‘bright’, and ‘night’ as ‘day’,

But when the scream is itself ‘blind’, none of any faulty sublunary is definite to stay.

Why these screams want to hold the yesterday’s sand which will certainly continue to flow,

Let the sorrow's rain wash the old delicate town, till a hard core would appear to glow.

When these wounded words would haunt, just the screams would allow grieved heart to cry,

With fading sound of scream, a shallow is left, allowing life to again fill it with yet another try.

Aashish Kochhar