Tireless eyes-


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

“THE PRICELESS GIFT”


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what should I gift thee,
a token of love wrapped
in silk
a kiss shall vanish
in the zephyr,
a rose will lose its colour
lacy pack of chocolates
soon get savoured in hours,
an attire would wrap
thou,
but soon will the thread get unleashed

…then
what should I gift thee…
which valuable jewel?
a diamond, gold, ruby or emerald
they lose charm
in glittering aura of thou…
The stones will fall apart…
then…
what should I gift thee
A book, which
can be treasured for years…
..oh no, it shall be stacked in the shelf
dust will be its companion…
A perfume shall fizz out in days
every gift is mortal…
Unlike the soul of mine and thee
which remains immortal…

O ! then let me pluck few moments
from the cosmic air
of universe,
bedeck them with flowers of love
scent with my songs of splendor…
tune in music with my chords
I would gift thee
this
ceaseless, priceless , immortal
treasure.

The Twinkle


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skips the pulse , one breath I lose

a moment of your thought

when my eyelids gaze the blue

searching for the brightest star

its twinkle reminds me of you…

amidst the constellation

a unique stellar assemble

come closer ! I whisper,

as I capture Thee

in the quiet lake of my iris

to bathe in amor

the lotus petals seal until

the aurora pierces

the dark firmament and falls on the bud

about to blossom.

The delicate quill


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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…

Fettered Mind


 

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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 .

Time


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photocredit:stylonica.com

Howsoever far soars the bird

It has to return to its nest in time…

Like a wandering nomad roams through

Yet tents in places at a specific time…

As a traveler,

the soul voyages on earth

before its assimilation with divine…

When the azure turns dark

and the leaves shrivel in autumn time

Or the flowers which bloom in spring

and seasons change

The moment of realization is predestined.

 

THE SONG OF MOCKING THRUSH


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photocredit:www.picssr.com

She is the mocking thrush
who on the high end branch
sings and perch
laughing at the world
on human errors…

Ah! she imitates in a hoarse voice
satirical,the cons of a
power game
and money launderers of
the affluent race
she hums the low note in tears
twitching her beak in anxiety…
hypocrisy ! thy name
of every face which dons the mask
while innocents become prey
to the hungry mouths of
greed and misery …

in melancholy ,she serenades
about the empty stomach of thousands
homeless shelter innumerable,
falter who on every path
while
a gory dagger butches
life
somewhere in the dark hours
echoes intermittently when the din of
explosion
haunting the survived ones;
wonders the mocking thrush:
“Oh! how I wish to sing a song
of love and serenity
shall I ever sing a tune
melodic and blissful”,
hiding amidst the camouflaged rue