Indefinite , infinite is the call
hope of a dawn that illuminates the darker
though the distance had been farther
and path too difficult
that golden shine which peeps
from behind life's silhouette
speaks as an augur
here shall arrive
the momentous moment
when reap thou shall
sowed seeds of faith
to that voice of inner conscience
auspices
the soul in trust & vigour.
©Soumya
hadn’t the cuckoo perched every branch
hiding from the limelight
beneath the vast azure she vanishes
as a star during daylight
what if the colours create a motif
of a saga in humble words
she runs behind the tall corridors
where sleeps since years a history epical…
do not dissect the words or rhyme
forget to decipher or analyze
her pastels sing
her trinkets dance
words paint
and voice charms
faraway the bohemian lives
away from the world in a realm of dreams
moving under thousand suns
I need one life
a life of few moments
as the falling sand counts against the race of time
while in unison the momentous instants merge and dance
on the rhythm beats of
clouds and drizzling raindrops
they succor on my skin
as thou once wished ,
in between the pauses , as we rest and move away
our back to each other
I think of you and you of me
envisioning our tale in the newly emerged leaf of spring.
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!
“EGO & LOVE
“fidgety fretful , always had been his heart
he threw tantrums whilst, love wept and scattered like shards
stamping arrogance he displayed
in a corner few tears she shed…
a silver bowl that bedecked
overflowed with pearls
precious…
what a paradox
epiphany in delusion
he flaunts false pride
of translucent treasures
in possession
while she drinks with her palm
cupped
an incessant intoxicating ale
from the open wounds of
her chafed heart ,
with a smile gentle…”
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.
I have lost my pen
its nib – golden
once scribbled ceaselessly
while the world retired
to the cushion of comfort every night
the quill loved to brush against the papyrus…
leaking on blank pages
the painful emotions
which were witness of sordid transitions
helplessly,
yet as a powerful weapon
narrating every encounter thus illegal…
where is the indite
where’s the instrument
the sword -that sliced reality
spear- which pierced the raw veins
dagger – which wounded the cold heart
…
as a potion for lovers
and deadly poison
for hypocrites
…
lost somewhere
… help me ,find my pen
Tis’ lost somewhere
in the desert.
Tireless eyes–
watch the setting sun’s scarlet mask
a young morn, enfurling petals
The lonesome cacti in sordid desert
orchids blossoming as fragranced love in cold hearts of summer…
What if they become tired and close for few moments
Nay! The noisy chaotic shimmer of dutibound survival
shall enforce them to be wide open…
not long to reach their goal
The pair of epic witness
thus shall retire
Ne’er again …
the world would look beautiful
when those pretty eyes close
the curtain forever…
Copyright @ SoumyaV2015
photocredit:www.hdnewwallpapers.com
the fettered mind hell bent to break loose the cage
imprisoned since years , the thoughts unspoken
unnamed
could it ever see the light
wander free in the dark blue sky
can the wondrous cerebrations acquire
an immortal shape of imagination
and manifest in the atoms of life
as a splendid creation…
within the fortified walls
as die every inquisitive vision
thence strangles the birth of novel challenges
and revolutionary interventions..
open the gates, let the bird flutter and fly
provide the wings of courage
and atmosphere of freedom
then shall soar at greater heights
fettered mind, which possesses
an invisible power .
soumyav 