Monday, 29 October 2018

Waiting

Upon that bench alone he sits,


along with him sits a few misfits.


Heartache and pain,


coupled with unbounded love infused in his every grain.


Twisting & turning,


they take him about,


onto a journey riddled with doubt.


He knows not where, which way to turn,


to rid himself of these incineration and burns.


Memories of love puts a salve on the burn,


yet another misfit arrives - feelings of yearn.


And so return again like fire after rain,


the same feelings of heartache and pain.


He waits for her to come back soon,


that same person before who left his home.


With whom he envisioned a lifetime together,


with whom he was closer than ever,


Yet he sits there - she does not arrive,


was she real or his imagination alive?


She who penetrated his innermost wall,


she whom he trusted like he never trusted anyone at all.


Still, he sits there, tranquil, abating,


journeying with those misfits, yearning and waiting.

Saturday, 27 October 2018

Reminisce

Reminisce

He sat on a bench all by himself,
in the same garden, as before.
Looking at the same blossoming buds,
but not the same loneliness, t'was more.


Now the evening seems quiet and dull,
and the dusk has lost its touch,
there are no more chirping of the birds,
just lipless, unhappy smile of the skull.


Quiet, he sat there still,
to recourse that long way from whence he came,
when there was another - match'd with loving steps,
whose name now he breathes in pain.


A rush was it to have her there,
upon that same ol' dusty road,
like a lake that lifeless stood,
now found a way to gush and flow.


He couldn't believe how he found,
such a soul so pure and full of love.
A fool was he that he could't see,
that old sword of deceit still dangled above.


He wept and cried from inside - so full of grief,
when she left his hand and took another path,
and though he could still breathe the air,
it was so full of despair's wrath.


Something shattered within his heart,
maybe the violins playing cupid's tune.
While she distanced - stepped further away,
with tears he stood glancing at the moon.


How he prayed in his every breath,
to again have that nectar of sweetest love.
But alas! Her footsteps with his along the shore,
were wiped by time's unkind tides above.


She came back to him but was it she?
For it was a mere shadow of what she were.
Her approaches were mere perfunctory ones,
her loving words were mere desultory ones.


And he tried in vain to rekindle that fire,
that once held witness to their glorious love,
of ecstasy and passion that learnt from them,
the meaning of kisses, souls merging hugs.


But indeed a mere shadow it was,
dark and unyielding of her former self.
She never came back from that path she took,
as now he sits on that garden bench; melancholic,
reminiscing of who she was, all by himself.

Tuesday, 16 October 2018

I miss you then

Whenever newer events arise,
I miss you silently in disguise.
Disguise of an empty smile,
sometimes crooked, mindless all the while.


When I wake to the chirping sounds,
outside my window, all around.
Breaking away from your dreams
All I long then is to hear,
your soft whispers in my ear,
your gentle coaxing for me to rise
to stand up and face the day
with all that's best,
not needed to say.
I miss you then and all minutes to come.


As I slowly, in a daze,
discern tiny droplets touching my face,
it slowly dawns upon my mind
it's raining outside, with a pain.
I wish then to take a ride,
with you throughout, by my side.
We go to the hills perhaps,
a silent, overwhelming, beautiful space,
your sweet kiss and warm embrace.
I miss you, sitting in this crowded yet, a lonely space.


The lonely evenings spent alone,
without your concern, without your scold,
I loose myself in my closed room,
and go to the place where memories bloom.
I miss you then in every breath,
as I slowly drift between disguised smiles and gloom.

Thursday, 11 October 2018

Fearless

For those who are sad, in despair, giving up or just disappointed and discouraged. This will help and give you strength, you might be able to relate at least a few lines to your own life.


When crossroads came and I had to,
I always chose the hardest of them all,
they bent me in those twisted ways,
which made me stand apart and tall.


I am glad they did not kill,
and I knew my mettle through the tests,
which came and went as swift,
as the sun and moon's unrest.


I often shivered of the fear,
as crippling as it can be,
to face those demons that stood before,
but struck them nonetheless therefore.


There are far more wiser and braver still,
many people that I know,
gone through even harder times,
but vigilant, in the summers, rain or snow.


But I must not be sad or even shy,
to admit a person's worth.
For I am not less, and can't deny,
I have been bloodied too, and tasted dirt.


So even when the flames engulf,
the consequence of my sweat and blood,
I will not crumble or fall apart to lose,
but get up and rebuild, again by worn out tools.


Even if I am hung to dry,
by fools upon those steady gallows,
I will breathe again, and be heard,
by my thundering roars and bellow.

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