Written By Ankita Srinivasan (Grade 11)
Is it heaven when all stands still,
Silent as the grave or a chilly hill.
The faint sounds stop in an instant,
Like crowds after a failed circus stunt.
Is it hell when it all goes down,
When everything makes the heart frown.
The smallest trouble causes a sound,
A deathly wave ever so profound.
It is mortal when balance is found,
Meet in the middle, find common ground.
Heaven from below, hell from above,
Together they stand, hand in glove.Â
A small place with nothing around,
A quaint piece of heaven of my own.
The buzzing of bees my only sound,
And trees far away forming a cone.
My hands are warm through the cold,
Clutching a warm drink as I lean back.
The sun shone so bright, it glowed,
Yet here I was in a chilly attack.
Right here was heaven right on land.
It didn’t matter, the cold or the wind,
And here is a place where the sands
Of time didn’t matter nor did I mind
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