You may shout my deeds aloud in Wall Street of New York city,
With your level of pitch provoked by wish to disintegrate my franchise,
You may leave me alone, abandoned, sea-girt,
But still, like a sailfish, I’ll rise.

You may enact my life phase in theater and mock my sentimentality,
With your makeup of shade “offended ego”
and “can’t move on” painted merchandise,
You may succeed in burning me whole
after persuading me to wear kerosene soaked skirt,
But still, like Phoenix, I’ll rise.

You may keep trying to solve “me”, an unsolvable mystery,
With all your left guileful devise,
You may instead have some pity on yourself and spirt,
But either way, like the Sun, every single sunshine I’ll rise.

(A poem by Aparna Mohapatra)
(Ms Aparna Mohapatra is a First Year student of B.A. English (Honours) 2020 batch of the School of Languages, KIIT
Deemed to be University, Bhubaneswar)