Is it so difficult to understand why I love you

what is far more mysterious is why you love me.

Everything looks much simpler through the eyes of the blind.

rustic rain
brown- yellow hills
crows circle a carrion ****
I've come for resurrection to bleed against the sky,
thirsts like deserts, cool water washing
bones to soak
skulls abandoned, sun bleached white
prayer offerings for an earthly altar
here, where death
is hallowed

On life
On this world
Maybe dark and twisted
But his view on his work
Is utter awe that it captures an emotion

He gives it all he has
And at the end of the day
He can rest his head
Knowing that his poetry
Reflects on someones life

He has no fear of death
Instead he waits for her to come
He grows older
With every breath he takes
Yet he continues his work

A poets view
Is complicated
No one knows it
They will never understand
For they never read his work

He's a man with honor
He loves a woman
Who may never love him
The same way he loves her
Yet he continues his work

His words flow on paper
Like the mighty currents
Of the never ending sea
A poets view
Is strong and wide

He's happy with his work
He married it a long time ago
He gave it his all
And now he rest at night
With a smile on his face

A poets view
Will never be seen
By the average person
They can only capture a glimpse
At how he looks at everything

To love with no end result
To live in pain
And wither in silence
It's impossible

This mask I wear
Has become the face
The world has come to know
And still all I see
Is the worlds back

It's impossible
To just walk away
From the anger and the hatred
To just continue to say
I love you without you knowing how much

To breathe these toxic fumes
That the world calls air
It's plagued with screams
For freedom and peace
That will never exist again

It's impossible
To smile and laugh
When there's nothing to be happy for
All I do is past the time
Sit in silent shadows and wait for death

It's impossible
To continue listening to these screams
To continue fighting myself
To just gain my sanity
When I'm growing weaker

It's impossible
To continue not letting you in
To watch your tears fall
But there's nothing I can do
I'm just as lost, broken, and alone

It's impossible
To be happyWhen your not smiling
To celebrate life
When life has been cruel

They say I haven't lived
So I can't say
I hate this world
But I've seen enough of it
And I can say I hate it so far

It's impossible
For you to understand me
When I told you so little
For me to continue on this road
Of my own self-destruction

It's impossible
To be loved
When all I do is stress, rage, and hate
To love you anymore
Than what I have offered

I'm goin to die alone
I'm already living alone
So what's the point
Of saying I love you
If it's impossible to continue living

I've been beaten, shattered, left, and forgotten
I still got up
Because I had you to fight for
But now I say
It's impossible to fight any more

I still love you
But I'm growing weaker
I felt the change come
But I still remain the same
And everything is still impossible

I'm done with life,
With love, with wisdom,
With respect, with poetry,
With art, and finally with myself
Because all I do is curse myself

It's impossible
To say I'm done
When I just got started
To say I can't
When the will is still there

I'll fight for you
I'll be there for you
I'll never back down
Till my arms can
Caress your body

It's impossible
Not to love you
To just remain silent
When your tears crash
Instantly destroying me

It's impossible
Not yo want to hold you
And give you a place
Where your tears can freely fall
To just never be there when you call

This was the tree I first slept beneath.

It was summertime then, when
nights were warmed by hot breezes
and spritzing sodas were the drink of choice.

She could overthrow a king with the fall of her leaves.

These leaves fallin’ a’briskin’ the air
hung-hangin’ leaves in air cold and frozen—
iced off leaves hangin’ a’swayin’ like a gallow’d man.

Now she is gold and old and losing leaves.

These leaves crinkle like foil
snap, crunch, crinkle
Oh I do hope they are ok.

I pray that Winter will be good to her.

They say it will be a cold one,
I think to myself as I rest against her.
The air smells spiced and dry.

I hope she will be ok.

i sometimes think the thunder is the sky raging
                                             for some unrequited passion
                                                      the­ li
                                                              ­      gh
                                                        ­  tn
                                                            ­          in
                                                    ­        g
is its showing
the gashes in its heart
                                                           ­                                                                 ­     bright shining silvery blood
                                                           ­                                               splattered across for all and sundry to see
but for no one to understand and feel
an ache unrecognized must be
so much heavier a cross to bear
                                                            ­                                                        with no one to nurse or heal or care
                                                            ­                                                              the­ sky must be lonely up there
all it can do is roar and thunder
acting out its anger
                                                   the moon and the stars just stare on
                                                    unblinking­ sentries keeping watch
                                                           ­        from too far

and when I think like that I feel my worries slip away
no longer afraid of the thunder and lightning
its just a poor hurt boy
crying his heart away

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   15.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish