Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2011 · 427
Reason
Namratha Aug 2011
In words lie an ocean of smiles,
In smiles, float the tears,
The tears tell the truth in glory,
In the truth, rest my fears,
In my fears, Lie the future,
One where we may never be one,
In you, lies the end,
The Reason my story, He spun.
Aug 2011 · 561
Flower : Sister
Namratha Aug 2011
I am small, I am beautiful
In my womb, is life.
But I am in this ugly world.
Amidst ugliness, do I lie.

My sweet smell can purify
A little of what is around.
But only on the surface, never
The depths, from where the ugliness abounds.

My pale colour and gentle visage
Seem to lighten up the dark.
But can it ever illuminate the hearts
Of thee, who leave this ugly mark?

As the venom from around
Seeps in through my body,
I try to wage a war to save
My child, from all that is ugly.

As I crumble from the poison
I look up to the Lord and cry
'What did I do to deserve this fate
For me and my beautiful child? '

In the blue of the sky, I feel
His gentle eyes.
I hear His voice within me
Down from the distant skies.

'As you try to save your child,
I lose yet another' , He says.
'I lose you to one of my son's wrongs,
I lose you, to his terrible ways.'

'What can be more tearful?'
Cries the Lord of all life
'Than to lose one child to another
And see this sibling strife?'

Seeing the sorrow in His eyes
With my last breath I plead,
To you, my brothers and sisters
To just look back and see.

All the mistakes that you made
That cost so many lives.
The grave wrongs that dared
To bring tears to His gentle eyes.

I beseech you to hear this cry
As my life, fades away.
The cry of thine own sister, to stop
Your path from going more astray.
Aug 2011 · 916
The Boy and his Boat
Namratha Aug 2011
The voice of the wind echoes on,
The music of the valley trills.
Along with the brook's babble
And baritone of the distant hills.

In this mystic musical,
Beneath the wandering wind,
Upon the brook of eternity,
The Boy and his Boat begin;

Their journey from pain and darkness
Their journey from cries and red
Their journey from war and hate
Their journey for hope and bread.

A song of beauty and quiet
Is sung by the flowers and trees
The call of the cuckoo, ushers in,
The warm and gentle breeze.

But the cry of the Boy reverberates
In the air of superficial peace.
As the Boy and his Boat, journey on
Reliving terror, in memories.

On the land that boasts
Of a paradise on Earth
Lies a secret that tells
A tale of loss and dearth.

Away from all the noise
That rings of rage and sorrow
The Boy and his Boat float
Towards a hopeful morrow.

Hidden in the arms of the valley
Shall the scar of the truth lie.
But reality will ring out
From the Boy's soulful cry.

And as the tunes of Nature
Play, clear and bright.
On the brook of eternity
The Boy shall continue his fight.

The mountains and valleys shall sing
For a thousand years to come
But with it shall echo the human spirit
Through a vivid and distinct hum.
Aug 2011 · 541
Sense O! Senses
Namratha Aug 2011
O Self! Held art thou in stagnant pools
They that quiver with eternal halt.
O Eye! Forced art thee to memorize
Immovable walls, their every strength and fault.
O ears! Yet again made to hear
The tide of time ebbing away
O Nose! Thou should carry on to take
In the smell of still decay
O Touch! Fell shall thou, with no pause
The lack of change and infinite same.
O Chant! Repeat thyself to say the prayer
That no audience shall ever claim.
        O Soul! Soar above these heavy shackles!
        Grow forever in the world's expanse.
        O Mind! Paint the world with thy aura.
        Never Stop. Never Stay. Never Cease to advance.

— The End —