When left “I”
‘the life’ in a split second
From the door of the body to heaven
Where did I get lost in between,
O ! lord !
Was ‘I’ a body with a life
Or a soul imprisoned in flesh of being?
Where was I ?
Who was I ?
Amidst the melee. I didn’t hear any sigh..
What was my name ?
What am I named?
Is it the same,
as I lose
when burns my effigy,the form of five elements created by thee
Where will I go and traverse?
is it the The cosmos
or The astral ?
what’s the journey ahead,O thee!
hold my finger and take !
wandered I on various lands
ov’r seas, ov’r bridges
strolled on sands and
walked through indefinite contours
every land donned
a new robe,
a new colour
of hope ,
converges to the same destination
Paths many , journeys different
all under the same azure
witness the sun and moon while playing hide and seek
from their co ordinates
innumerable ways to elevate and transcend
ceaseless is the travel
there’s lot to discover
get set go and
in different atmospheres
before it ends…
beneath that blueness does life smile
like the pretty lilies
does the rivulet sing
songs of love
can it dissolve the pain
of burning years
which path shall reach to this realm
where pure would be the air
and clear emotions,
Will thou lead me to other side
into such heaven ?
donning a mask,
like on stage , they believed
world is surely a theatre
and we the actors…
forget they while
running through script of the legend
the ink flowed out of incontinence
behind the curtain ,
exists the real
curtailing while shaking hands
endless follies,what true nature
hath a human displayed
weeps the soul under the canopy of body
in large measures
masks attractive, masks colourful
Halloween allows phantasmagorical faces
yet every day isn’t Halloween
forgets the human
switching masks umpteen.
Dried , my ink with the dryness of my heart
bloodless have been my veins
thus the pen moves empty
scribbling lifeless words
swiping away desires ,
the heart stranded bruised and over bruised
with thousand wounds..
No, blood can’t be infused back
I run incessantly with blemishes
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.