Endlessly my heart cried
eyes searching frantically in vain
“where art thou”
behind the curtain of life
is anything true or is all disdain?
My life ain’t a stage
neither I a performer to enact or flaunt
in mystical attire as perceived everyone
..I ,a mere soul
wish to be a lotus
blooming in the mud
admiring the sparkling moon afar
from the altar…
Allow me to be my real self
I neither wish to be a actor
nor my life a theatre…
Spare me O! world
from the pangs of hypocrisy
from the rings of falsity
let me break away from the glitter of gold and
tinkling of coins
I’m a mere soul
elated amidst nature
blissfully admiring eternal creation
I live for love and affection.
“THE PLAGIARIST”
Often you picked choicest of words
from the cluster of flowers of my blossomed garden
they fragrance of altruism
Pick pocketing the few saved pennies of thoughts
from the remuneration of my expressions
which loved to jingle
in the profundity of
my creation
snatching the ideologies
presenting in the coterie
bouquet of compliments, applause,
awaits at your doorstep
with bestowed honour
…
a swindler,
plagiarist,
or
a weak feeble warrior in life
how do I call you
a mere
borrower of emotions?
soumyav 