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Aug 2017
I hammered some words
Out from the quarry of my brain
They fell around in shards;
Some like boulders,
some like rocks and rubble
I picked them up one by one.
Block on block, I piled them up
Thinking I could build a ‘pleasure dome’

But,
     When it was time for the workman
      To marvel over the beauty and wonder
      Of his dream creation  
      His masonry tumbled down
      Like sand castles built
      By little hands on sea strands
      Or dunes of quicksand sliding down

I have lost count of the times,
This has happened before.
Now that I stay resigned,
Amid a heap of debris

Is there any use feeling remorse?

Like Nero fiddled on his harp
When Rome was burning
I sit on this pile of wreck
Piping my thoughts away
In the cusp between victory and defeat
Exacting as much ecstasy as I can
Before the truth looms large
In all its stark nakedness!
Valsa George
Written by
Valsa George  India
(India)   
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