Have u heard the final calling of the Cuckoo
Before the sun sets.
Have you heard the eerie wind blowing
In the most derelict of the ruins
There is a sense of loss.
There is that painful understanding of no return.
And here it is
My Swan song, I decide to write no more
My best words always followed
The worst of my pain.
Now there cant be more of this.
I stare at the abyss.. the dismal darkness
This was a world where I shed my masks.
This was a stage, where I stood stark naked.
Now there cant be more of this.
I stare at the storm.. like a crumbled piece of paper
And before I leave this stage, I would like to announce
Life is "an ugly son of *****"
Here is it my folks
Here is my swan Song, I decide to write no more
I decide to write no more. This will be my last piece of poetry.
The time machine thing.. dear.. the time machine thing
And again, I find myself in that familiar territory.
A bed of rocks.
Woods full of plant of thorns,
And rivers of tears.
Its all serene when you look from outside
But a fierce battle rages within.
A battle without winners or losers.
A battle without sides.
Oh, the inexplicable, unreasonable, abominable pain!
How you unsettle me,
But how I can't live without you.
Like a sharp arrow digging deep into the flesh
You dig well into my spirits.
But yet, I have started loving this.
I want no potion to get rid of you.
You are the perpetuity of my being
Those brief moments of joy are a glitch.
Oh the inexplicable, unreasonable,
How I can't live without you.
I find myself in the grip of that familiar, abominable claws of regressive depression. And somehow I find a hostage to it. A hostage with Stockholm Syndrome
Of all the secrets I kept from you,
The most sweet one was my love for you.
Abandoned at a sandy beach,
Bleeding sunlight through the countless cracks,
I , a lone catamaran,
Stared at the infinite ocean.
The sun is coming down.
The seagulls are flying to eternity.
The lighthouse far away has started blinking
And the winds are returning home.
Gone are the days of stormy adventures.
So, are the laughters on the day of good catch.
I miss the uncertainties of tempest,
And the ballads of ******.
A sunset is the most poignant moment in the life.
All your memories out there to enchant you,
Life is all frolicking around you,
And you stare soulless, into a receding red ball.
I yearn to break free of this inaction
Push away the stack of stones holding me back.
And glide down the wet slippery sands
Out into the frothing foam of life.
Let me float anchorless where the ocean takes me.
Let the storm toss me up in the air
Let the waves batter my hull
Let me capsize in the blue salt water.
And then.... there would be peace.
Its monsoon in my part of the world. One day during my morning stroll I saw this catamaran parked ashore. It oozed solitude and melancholy
The next day I saw that the wild sea has taken it and it had capsized and was being tossed around in the waves. A sudden sense of empathy gripped me
An year is born
And my wishes galore
I wish to be the swirl
Of a whirling dervish
I wish to be the fingers
of a classical pianist
I wish to be the
melodious wind off a flute.
I wish to be the melting glacier
of the mighty Himalayas
I wish to be the Dew on
the first day of Spring
I wish to be her unlocked hair
when she blossoms in my passion
I wish to be the sweat on her *****
after the wildfire I set is settled.
I wish to be my unfulfilled desires
For they are the best of me.
I am the body sans its soul
I am dressed in fancy work attire
I glow like any gentleman's body
I look like the master of my world
I step into the ergonomical work world
Only that in real it's a glass walled Colosseum
There is a Caesar up there in a throne
There are lot of cheers for me
But at the end of the day
I am just a slave dressed up as gladiator
The arena is set; mud covers yesterday's blood
Gods of the sky, be around
Soak up my sweat if I live through the day
Soak up my blood, if I dont make it that way.
The fight is on, villains galore
Sometimes they are the warriors dressed up in gold
Some times they are the monstrous beasts thirsty for my blood
Either ways it is a battle for life and bread.
The day is coming to close..
Doesn't matter whether I win or lose
I end up kneeling down
At the end of Caesar's throne
What will the Caesar do now?
Doesn't matter any how
I have to return here tomorrow
Without my soul in tow