There are Times
When I am
Groping at the vapours
Of nothingness
Hoping to churn out
Life and hope from it,
(With a desperation
That makes me feel
As though I were
strangling emptiness itself.)
There are Times
When I wish with all my might
(Believing for just that dead moment
that my thoughts are powerful indeed.)
That the concrete reality
Would crumble and melt
into nothingness.
There are Times
When I remember
That it's darkness
Staring at me in the eyes
[Threatening me or encouraging me,
I know not.]
And I shut my eyes
To crawl within
The cold comfort of familiarity
That I first meant to escape.
There are Times
When I seek to
Merge into a shadow
As the gust of Light,
Having shot out
From unseen corners and walls of impasse
Now straining its eyes at me
Sears and sieves through
The dust of opaque fear
Settled since long before I was born.
There are Times
When I realise, a truth
Shall not be uttered by me
Not the right time,
How do you set a time for truth?
There are Times
When I must not let
The truth run amok
Lest it wreaks havoc.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC
There are Times
When I am
Groping at the vapours
Of nothingness
Hoping to churn out
Life and hope from it,
(With a desperation
That makes me feel
As though I were
strangling emptiness itself.)
There are Times
When I wish with all my might
(Believing for just that dead moment
that my thoughts are powerful indeed.)
That the concrete reality
Would crumble and melt
into nothingness.
There are Times
When I remember
That it's darkness
Staring at me in the eyes
[Threatening me or encouraging me,
I know not.]
And I shut my eyes
To crawl within
The cold comfort of familiarity
That I first meant to escape.
There are Times
When I seek to
Merge into a shadow
As the gust of Light,
Having shot out
From unseen corners and walls of impasse
Now straining its eyes at me
Sears and sieves through
The dust of opaque fear
Settled since long before I was born.
There are Times
When I realise, a truth
Shall not be uttered by me
Not the right time,
How do you set a time for truth?
There are Times
When I must not let
The truth run amok
Lest it wreaks havoc.
P.S. / Epilogue
Don't tell me that you
Have already forgotten
That there were times,
You did not know
Or even want to know
What you wanted to do, or
What you ought to have done.
There are times when we seek hope, in the form of an opportunity, a person who could guide us, without realising that the only person at that juncture to help us, would be our own self. But there's a constant wait for (Godot?) something to change things, as if trying to make the universe say that we were in an unfair place that could not be helped, and only a definite pattern or turn of situations would give meaning to one's life. The manifestation cannot be, prior to the determination.
There are times when the opportunity doesn't merely knock at your door but stays put like a silent comrade waiting for you to pack your bags, so it can bring you to a new dimension of you yourself. Many a time, our fear stifles us, overriding the striving that seemed hope enough till now, only to bring things back to status quo.
There are times when one feels that one needs to take a stand, make his/her voice heard, to try and bring a halt to something that shouldn't happen, and is happening, yet. But circumstances spell out a different path altogether, and then we are faced with situations where we'd rather not let something be known to everyone, because it would do more harm than good. What is the truth, then?
Request permission to use this poem