At 5:00 am, the sun rises, and so does my fear.
I walk out and chills run down my spine,
The leaves are filled with water,
Which people call “dew,” but I call tears,
The sky is dense with spirits,
Hiding the vastness of the blue sky, a place to wander.
The dull heavens fill with a ball of flaming gases,
Too bright to see, too hot to touch, too dangerous to imagine.
The breeze harshly blows the dead leaves and shakes me.
I quickly run inside,
Fear eats my mind,
My brain is a nervous wreck,
Every part of nature scares me.
Pahal Bhasin is a 12-year-old budding poet. She studies in the seventh grade at Excelsior American School in Gurugram, India. Her hobbies include poetry, singing, dancing, drawing, fencing, and playing the piano.
