Ravishing, the tender filaments ,
those which tie the twin souls
often swayed which
in breeze of amor
dipped in pool of sacred nectar…
unraveling the knots of past and present
which were long forgotten
vis a vis ,the flames of destiny
burning on the candle of verve …
What do selfish wants and gruesome lies do to a human? The stature of a human being falls below any level and exhibits the egocentric character. For once, the person descends into the pit of suffocation, where conscience plays its role,hereafter.
The Monologue of a covetous gambler !
gossip I in the corridor of lies,
dwells where the queen
burning in envy bright…
the timid , quiet truth sits in a corner
watching the powerful blow
might of the false emperor…
sometimes withered , sometimes cornered
the creeper of truth can’t grasp
firmly the wall of belief,
falls it, hopelessly,
while dig I the roots
underneath the soil mature…
The world reckons ,my stature
I , covetous gambler.
Oh! what’s this!
why am I suffocating , what smoke is this
filling the corridor…?
Alas! Is it my own selfish endeavor
in burning the roots of verity
I char my own … fingers.
Wonder I of
the shallow words and churning of thoughts
satisfied with simple pleasures
ne’er touched by façade of life’s learning
miles away from the biggest ocean…
ne’er drenched or even wet
the wisdom drops, slip over the surface
oiled with comforts and petty measures…
one dimensional image of the trivial mind
remains submerged in trifling delectations…
Isn’t the orchid pale today or
the azure lost its hues in frosty weather
the pink lilies too
when the dusk appears little purple than
the scarlet pier…usual
forgotten in dead remains
as ashes they scatter in dust
reminiscences of the beloveds
who died one fateful night
again prevails the same climate
transforms the camouflage of
flowers and world
Tis the sky who alone
remembers the fury
repercussions of war
in cold blooded atmosphere…
sulks the orchid tonight…
purple appears the crimson lover
stained in blood drops
dried and desiccated as humans of universe.
Who knows thou! sings the baul
his fingers struck the single chord
the solo of duality , he hums
in remnants of the grief stricken
some old souls, few shattered and broken
Oh ! does it require to be a tatterdemalion
or a ramshackle old pier
to whisper the tunes of eternal weather
while plays the
impulse of seeking the invisible
or knowing Him through
the world visible…
The rampant hunger and
lingering thirst arrives wherefrom
in the arteries of singing legends
is it necessary to be in a deplorable condition
to call and cry for
the cosmic creator!
why forgets the mind of many
bask who in sun of pleasure…
its going to be dark soon
whence shall it find the light for right direction?
alive remain we, until grounded,
in depths of soil, as we are rooted.
a moment takes to uproot the base,
dry the leaves of existence, life devastates.