Thousand wishes I laid on your path
The one with pricking thorns
Flowers weren’t for me
For I resonate fragrance of similar splendor
But crushed often
In distilleries
Squeezed, crumbled
Ain’t life such
Forget the leisure
Treading difficult terrains
Is a trend in my nature
@soumya
A part of me is sliced tonight
chaffed off my tender heart
The breath is half,
Life becomes half
snatches as the clutches of destiny
from my existence
a part
Somewhere down the years , the bruised portion will grow
balm the wounds with verses of blood
curing pain of the open shredded injuries
A part of me then shall merge,
rejuvenate
coalesce and unite to assimilate finally
like a body converts to ashes
and integrates in the soil
A Life gets over
Can I ever express?
Can I ever say?
murmurs the inner voice
The random ruminations
struggling details
endless musings
thoughts ceaseless
turbulent apprehensions
intense emotions
words falling way apart
when the ink of life flows like the Ganges….
the arteries suffocate
what hath the social environ done
strangling wishes in the cage
flutters the bird a last time
before she forgets her own desire
…
how then would the heart speak
after being buried in soil nine feet deep
why then the soul screams
in silence when neither the world hears nor
peeps
Is it the solitude that echoes
and relishes the scathing pain
the lump in choked throat
or the blood of a slit vein…
the smile of the sad heart
or a laugh lame
…
how would the heart start
singing its own tale?
nay, it doesn’t glorify
nor intend to sermon
Tis the lonesome want of a
scribbling poet
Ya! listen comrade
lend a moment ,close your eyes
hear my soul’s tale
as drenches the parched heart
in desirous rain!
plucked I from the garden of epithets
a wondrous appellation
Sapphire! Thy sobriquet,
I sway gently in thy ecstatic kingdom
leaning against the sweet whisperings of thine creations
In moments together sitting parallel across the seven oceans
yet under the same vast expanse,
Thee soaking in the golden sun,
while I drench myself in monsoon showers
prompting minutes
of our pristine meet,
like an expected ephemeral juncture
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.
photocredit: google images
the delicate quill scribbles
lore of sordid life
amidst the society of racial protagonists and authoritarians
few drops emerge on the paper
red scarlet, yeah ! they are grievous tears
fallen by tormented excruciation.
the words sharp, pierce the autocratic system
which hath remained despotic since ages and years
..will the ink paint the page
and eyes of hypocrites in true colour
wiping away squalid tales
and etching a prognostic message
for mankind and humans…
photocredit:hdw.eweb4.com
The last breath and the heart sighed
Alas! Will my eyes close without a glimpse of the promise made,
through turbulence and storms,I have struggled…in an urge to sip a drop
of immortal
falling innumerable times,
often
stuck in between,
With zest I pulled over
off the dark plunging well of loss,
and continued to be strong…
yet today I lie
on the verge of death,
losing pulse,
faltering sense
awaiting the last call…
any minute ,
any instant…
Lips quiver, eyes sunk,
mind halts ,the beats stumble
a chilled touch
send shivers
Lo! I revive
what a miracle!
Sip, I
a drop of nectar …
in a glance of your crepuscle.
CHILD OF WORLD”S DESTINY
On streets forlorn
Walks the child, destitute
The infant of world’s destiny…
In rags torn
hungry and homeless
roaming through lanes
for a morsel!
The rulers sit on a lavish throne
speak high volumes of chore
actions fail to achieve
war and blasts kill
the child of world’s destiny
lives as a requiem…
soumyav 