Running hasty
river beneath,
a narrow
bridge spanning above,
a bridge not trodden
forbidden
was her presence.
The river
flows endless,
she spans
proudly,
Only to
be traversed by none,
but the
whooshing breeze.
Legend
envelopes the great bridge,
and the
green thicket across,
of lost
souls,
and mysterious
deaths,
history of
the angry local deity,
the feared
and revered myth,
rules every
mind,
forbidding
the forbidden!
N.B: The poem is written based on oral history about the bridge at Gasa Hot
Spring and like in the poem, it is a forbidden bridge. The history has accounts
of mysterious missing people and deaths too.
No comments:
Post a Comment