The Shadow | Pragati Gupta

The shadow seems tangible
Showing the way,
Taking up a glowworm’s Napoleonic duty
In the face of crisis
Dragging the vicious courage
Out of the cocooned existence.
The shadow melts in my cuppa,
Being baked in my love,
The love that felicitates me
With hatred
And I end up drinking it,
Raising a toast, unfestively.