The Invisible Dagger


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Tis the invisible dagger that slits and pierces
an indifferent song again dances
on the thumping beats of my heart
yet again, the wound stings
letting the searing tears reign the start
blisters, how many,
how doth they vanish … by any magic balm?
I swallow the flood of extremeness
in a moment I hide behind my stretched smile
how far, how long
the deep bruise prolongs
let me know O! my lord
…under this dark
with thy drops of twinkle
I hope and hope till the last
of an infinitesimal moment
whence the flower will be caressed and
not slit with the invisible dagger
of a morning , of a dawn
of an era,
while I live on.

Monologues of Life


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Monologues of life

I converse

a scream of silence echoes in infinite corners

what if, what if not?

burglar questions rob my heart

whilst the world moves constantly

me and my monologues sit in peace and converse quietly…

 

A rage inside, sometimes a storm behind,

a heartfelt emotion or endless passionate musings

how would I, how should I not?

random talks in between

me and my monologues sit hand in hand under the dark

A word of respite or phrases of delight,

a sulking feeling or share the ecstatic night

like the flowers dangling on a full moon night

me and my monologues sit and listen to each other

as companions of life

 

STATURE


Thou as tall as the majestic Everest

thy length can never be measured in yards

thy width expandable as the vast azure

I lose my self in the blueness of thou  ! Krishna

in thy depth is the ecstatic endless ocean

I immerse and submerge

in the sublime waves

to dive deep

and reach the zenith of bliss.

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“POETS”


Poets speak truth,

I presume

in between lines and words

metaphors wrapped in a cosy shawl of emotions

personified as a beautiful bird flying to the unknown destination in a

a silent night

sailing through fluffy clouds of hope and desperation

they assume

they fall,

they rise and

sometimes become stagnant.

Poets write, poets bleed,

their priceless treasure

the hidden thoughts

those emerge on the blank pages of

a journal

@Soumya V

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