Destiny

I wept all night-

I was in search of light.

I obviously found none.

I questioned the existence of sun.

I went angry- I tore the sky.

I then got God's reply

''Things happen when they have to happen

This is Destiny's secret weapon!''


About this poem- Written when I couldn't understand what was happening in my life. And the only explanation I got was- Destiny! One may argue that destiny is nothing in front of will power and hard work. What do you think? Destiny exists?

The Lemon Tree

Theme: When the world ends, only love will survive. Rest everything-will perish.
(A popular piece I wrote for my previous blog. Read with patience. You'd love each word.)

Solitary Lovers
Hath Survived
Beneath the Lemon Tree…


What happened was-
A story told
Once upon a time, in the spell of cold…

Raining bliss
Showering beauty
Rose above- a pious dream…


Soured shadows
Teared the tacit trance
And ceased to hear-the sounds of bare feet…


Beneath heavens
The black coal glowed
Blushed amok with passionate zeal…


Shy, surreal
The silent sounds
Echoed amongst the dust,in the dusky dawn…

Luscious locks
Limbered down to kiss
The nape, the neck and entrusted…

All is fine
Until the kind God decided
To let the moment stay eternal…


Forever!... He wished
The Love stays perpetual!
Kill despondency! Doth not there be despair!


The clouds roared
Intensity seized and
Appeared instantly The fury--The furor!

The earth unbolted
And swallowed itself
It’s parts and it's whole…


None to see!
None to hear!
Hath the Catastrophe been foretold…


Now, there’s none to harvest
None to reap the gold
Futile-the magma of the crust upturned…


That which is left
Is the Lemon Tree
Hath saved the Lovers from misery…


The calamity engulfed 
Greed and vice
Left Love! Only Love survived…


Thou Lemon Tree
Grows far and wide
New world it creates- content and polite…


Thou Lemon Tree
Is now aged and old
But the roots stay- Strong and Bold…!


Grows the growth
Of The Human Soul
Of the Immortal Creature- which is Love- I’m told!

Grows the growth
Of The Human Soul
Of the Immortal Creature- which is Love- I’m told!

The Day

I dissected dead bodies/cadavers without even once thinking there could be a possibility of their after-life. Anyway, enjoy this spooky poem. :P

One insolent night
I woke up
to find
a familiar face
hanging
lifeless
from the ceiling
by the neck
bowed down
twisted and wrought
(in disobedience?)
yet,
modestly smiling
and pretending
that
everything is still fine.
And,
I wept within
(for I am not supposed to cry)
to see myself
on the day
I died.




















A question for you: How would you react if you found yourself dead? Scary? No, seriously, tell me... Would you be sad? Would you have regrets? Would you be happy to have lived a complete life? Share your thoughts here.

The Silent Tear

This poem is on the journey of a tear. This single drop has a life and its end. And it's happy after having spent its life in the comfort of the eyes and now it slowly begins its journey towards its end, missing its home-the eyes.

A Tear has been flowing
Down against my cheek.
My core has been crying, 
It's dark now, let me weep. 

The solitary saline tear.
Appears- though from nowhere 
Trickles down, just near 
Beside the lock of my lips. 

The lucid n clear drop 
Is Spirited with green glisten 
It Slavers down over my maw, 
It tastes sweet yet’s not sweet!

The drop descends down beneath, 
Silently as though in a dream. 
Creating chaos within me,
It’s Silent, yet not calm!

The tear mounts over my chin, 
Quiet, silent and still. 
It waits a while limping 
And dreaming its last part. 

The tear now wallows,
In its long lost past. 
Consoling itself with a sweet memory- 
Joy it had in the eye it once dwelled in.. :) 

Mine?

In this poem, I reflect upon my existence. Why am I born? Any answer to this question seems incomplete.

I own nothing

Nothing was ever mine.

This form, this soul

It’s possessed by none.

I seem to devour a timeless mine

Though, nothing has been ever mine.

I did nothing, but scream.

Yes! Those were always mine.

I acted but had been seen through!

I see ‘I’ was nothing- but an Ego

I could hear in me- an ungrateful whine.

I desired happiness

Yes! The Ego wanted ecstasy

From sources unwonted

From lofty advances

Then I heard it died- the happiness died.

I desire the truth-

What is it that can ever be mine?

Am I born to chase,

To pursue in haste

All things that go in nobody’s grave?

Because I own nothing

Nothing was ever mine

I live for the want

Of a drop of pure blood

To witness my filthy drains of brine.