الثلاثاء، 4 يوليو 2017

The Blast


Goodness of soul is so rare to find
In this age of ours
That's what I always thought, when she spoke of love
Have always wondered how she does it grandiosely,
Being so kind
In a world so vulgar
She said on one dark hour that she knew
He had a life of his own, apart from his beau
A happy nest he made with another
Having succumbed to the pleas of his mother
Mere months after he uttered the words 
You see, when the chest is glutted, one has to make a few
Confessions
And she, basked in the moonlight
Turned her head and asked in all candidness,
If it was okay to wait
On him
Wait ,despite the shackles of guilt
And the chains of desire
For years and years for their fate to change
While she never faltered
Wait, for to love, she said, without a gleam of deliverance

Is the highest of callings





Hey, kindred spirit

Could it be a bless that we don't get to see
The greater picture that is splattered amiss ?
Is knowing too terrible to bear with
That we deign to pick the awkward lies
And guile lullabies
Over a truth too bare and loud to miss?
Perhaps it's drenched in rue, ever so bleak
Yet we choose to call it a beautiful mess
This higher calling; a sorry excuse
For a piece of art

Why are humans so weak, though
Before the maladies of the heart ?

Tears of wrath are quite the scare
When they gush so rapid, as you flare
With unwarranted emotions
Sometimes you don't understand
Why your tepid strands of expression
Would crumble beneath your chin
Turning the knobs of your poise so craftily
Weighing your bow of concern so furtively
I raged, my self beside, with utter disdain
Such a fall from grace, I'm aware
How I wept for a notion profound, that I grasped afresh
Yet couldn't quite explain
To my woe and bewilderment
In that moment of bareness, I didn't dare expose my face

Breath, it's not about you
But she is miserable
She is not you
It isn't fair
It's not happening
To you
What does it matter to you ? Your heart is sound
Your soul is free
Your cup of tea, it never gets cold
You never found the will to destroy a world
For the one you adored
Harbor the beauty of it all, and baseness, in your bones
Reduce your pride into droplets of resignation
Trap yourself in a car with smudgy panes asking all the right questions
Of the wrong person

You wouldn't understand

Was it for a sore on my flesh, that I bitterly wept ?
I wonder
Or for a lump in my throat that I couldn't relieve
Was it really for her ?
Or for love, getting defiled, heinously
For the broken trust of a child
For the blight of man
For the world, being black and white, only either
The incertitude of one with a soft nature
Having to tread over patches of shadow and light
For the fact that I cared 
To the point of having to choose
Between a breath and a sigh
For a hurt that wasn't mine to take home

Was it for myself, after all,
That I shed all these tears ?

And I, with all my pretentious airs
Wanted to puke all the words bulging in my throat
The acrid, the sorry
The callous, the mean
The irretrievable
The tired

The pointless
The pointless
The pointless

I said nothing

What could words fix when it was the words the broke everything ?