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A morning, unveiling the light,
The light promising a bright day,
Who knew that the reins were already set from heaven
Ever-ready to eclipse the promising light!

The choked breath paused the minutes,
Even the seconds wailed to go on.
There it was-the body on the chariot,
to be set on the journey of being immortal!

The tears rolled down her eyes,
Millions of beads falling one on one
Like it was meant to be threaded,
To be worn as the garland of victory!

The garland beads before the ending mortality,
Flowed and dried as the fire consumed
The flame purifying the soul,
Know that the light shall always bless you!

Don't dare you cry!
And why shall ever you?
For the body that disappeared,
But the soul shall always guard you!

The countless moments of shouts,
The bucket and mug on its sunday routine,
Like the freshness draping the dried body,
And her blessings shall always be yours!

It feels like it happened yesterday,
as if it happened in a moment's flash,
She waits and stares at the door,
at her hands with memories painting her eyes!

Her hands feel the emptiness,
The mug and bucket stares at her,
The nightly-awakened loud cries,
Yes, her heart thumps and thumps!

Minutes resumed on a slow note,
Seconds swiftly slid,
But the heart that contained it all,
Lost the battle to time!

Adorned in a beautiful attire,
The jewellery adding twinkles to that star,
She gave her hand to her grand-daughter,
Yes, the hands were no more lonely!

She says-it was blissful
To meet her again, to defeat the time.
Grandma says-"it has just been five days and I feel tired",
Soon someone spilled water on those colorful images!

She walked again-back as a mortal,
With their hands merging as one!
Like the dream was itself a reality,
She did win it- the race with time!

I planned to meet the Nivecian butterfly,
Her kingdom attacked and shattered,
Still she murmured, still she smiled,
Being the anomaly to all!

The wounds of the deadly sword,
Still fresh with no blood in sight,
She was afraid if the fate was more cruel,
And if the same happened to her mom and dad!

A new morning casted another eclipse,
She was unknown to forthcoming but scared,
of the cruelty of that never-losing time,
The chariot again arrived at her castle.

Numbed with the pain,
She looked at her mother's body,
Her memories trapped in the wildfire,
She remembers her journey from the diapers to the hands that wiped her tears!

She shouted one day at her mummy-
Why are you not even letting me rest in holidays?
Her Mom was low in haemoglobin,
She utterly regretted her words!

Like a child she is as we all are,
The shouts and our childish threats once become our memory.
Mummy, she says she is numb to even cry,
But she calls to you-time and again!

She cannot cry anymore,
Millions of beads already woven into garlands,
She gave all she had,
To those two beloved-loved and alone!

Her wizard drowning into loneliness,
With the vidoes of his wife stuffing life in her running all twenty four hours,
As if she will return-the mighty she wizard
to her beloved , he wizard!!

The Nivecian butterfly now flutters,
Her wings beautiful,young and wet,
She seeks to rebuild her kingdom,
With the magic of her Dad!

She now has loaded responsibilities,
Of herself and her wizard,
Both of them make a wonderful team,
Their smiles-the oxygen to each other!

He sits without his potion,
But the beautiful butterfly seeks to brew for him,
The potion filled,the happiness instilled,
Their laughter consuming the space!

The cuelest of all happened to her,
On the 18th of May and the 8th of JUNE!
Shall ever be on the pages of our history,
The memories being our lifeline!

I call out to her-
Let your wings paint the world-
The world of your Dad, the very world of yours, the world of all!
Flutter ,rise and soar higher,
For that ending sky is your beginning!

I wish your words reach beyond spheres,
To that ever-expanding dimensionless universe,
the timeline failing before you!
You are a strong, beautiful mystery for all!

Yes, you are the most-powerful heroine in my page,
The pages of my life shall always breathe in your story,
It will forever be inspired by the tales of your glory,
You are the best Nivecian- even the two souls from heaven will bid for you!
the softless slip of your
fingernail across the
bloodside of my wrist
sends shivers up my
arm straight to the
shoulder and neck
          I imagine

there is so little reward
in being sad at our
distance I'd rather
kiss the gates that keep
us apart and wish softly
sweetly that they open
          I wish
This poem was written while listening to "Jaipur" by the Mountain Goats.
Angelique Jul 2018
hello, hello - who's here to welcome me home?
where's the committee with the chariot
the very one Hades rode on

i traveled alone
with people
in search of a salvation
they said existed
but only
with death

oh joy!
bring it to me in the form of love
in the form of a six three
forty year old man
Richard Grahn Sep 2017
Riding through your fields
I lost my chariot wheels
Now head over heels
I’ll never forget--your smile
Or the green grass in my pants
Seema Aug 2017
My body is a chariot
Pulled by five horses
Each day duly proletariat
Surrounded by many forces

The horses are my senses
Tied by the rope of feelings
The driver wears filtered lenses
It's my brain that does the dealings

The rider is my humble soul
Doing its deed each day
The horses alert of the foul
When the driver changes its way*

"My body is a chariot,
Chariot has five senses such that the horses
Horses tied with ropes, these ropes are my feelings
Feelings in the hands of a driver which is my brain
Brain consoles the rider, and this rider is my soul..."

Inspired by a discourse
ConnectHook Mar 2017
* * * * * *
I drove a chariot for Egypt’s dead gods,
obeyed decrees of an angry Pharaoh.
Vision widens where hope seems to narrow
as coral crusts the rims and axle-rods.
Submerged upon the sands my army’s host;
Erythrean currents their secrets keep.
The waters gave way, drowned me in the deep
while God led you forth toward your promised coast.
There was no choice for me, the charioteer.
A tyrant sent me forth to hunt you down;
pursuing you, I thought your end was near.
In the descent, I lost my star and crown.
My lord was false, while yours continues strong…
I rise from depths to further you along.
Rider-Waite deck, major arcana,
number seven: The Chariot
Leeann Sep 2016
The chariot of lost hopes
clatters down the cobblestones
of broken graves and broken hearts
Flag fluttering listlessly down the boulevard
The horses weary and drooping
their hooves heavy as air

The chariot of lost hopes
drifts unmoored
Its weeping driver long gone
faded away into the dark mist
headed to lands never sunkiss'd

The chariot of lost hopes
never makes a stand
Hopes dreams ideals slip past like sand
The whistle of wind itself
is never heard where this chariot lands

The chariot of lost hopes
is always near
If one listens carefully
with growing fear
The sound of empty hooves
gradually becomes clear
brandon nagley Jan 2016
One hari, and his Reyna
Riding the chariot of
The otherworldly;

©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Hari and Reyna means- king and queen in Filipino...
brandon nagley Nov 2015

Mine Filipino rose beckoned me
Cometh up hither;
She bedecked her head
In oriental feather's.


She cut mine chain's
When once was tethered;
She entered mine brain
With sunshined weather.


Her countenance
Flew me on chariot letter's;
With romance open
Thus mine world turned better.

©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication-filipino rose
bedecked means adorned.... In archaic terms...

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