THE REAL POET


O! look ,there’s the real poet

who pulled out his heart

adorned it with

“the blows of ruthless love”

the mute feelings unearthed from gravels

slide as drops across the scar

creating a magical aura

in between the theme.

The silken imagery of fabulous scenes

diced with stupefying verses

dipped in the blood ink.

 

Oh! He rolled out his soul

on the streets and alleys

where once lived his wife to be

in the deserted palaces

and through the lanes of slum

wanders he , frantically.

 

 

Wondrously he conversed with the birds

Kissed the floating clouds

flowers danced to his tunes

in broad daylight , he fears

Under the starlit sky, he wanders

 

Alone he undertakes the journey

for miles in deep slumber

and in his solitude .

 

Look ! Oh! There’s the real poet

His soul dripping with blood and love

resented by the world

he now

is named lunatic

psychic he is referred to

on the path of destiny.

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