I might survive this pang, I might survive the next pang, might survive yet another fit…
But how many times do I survive, till I survive?
Beneath the night sky, with summer heat high; lay two souls, bound in a roll;
In the tide of stars and blooming crescent, they lay embraced arm in arm; the cool breeze and her velvet hair danced over his face , her lips chirped stories of her age , which he did not listen but heared without any damage;
At times prevailed silence , it felt like night sky; still and full of feeling like the stars, where the blazing moon of their embrace cooled their heart’s pending scars;
The boy felt like rain, in his tiny brain; when she told him a thousands of stories and hundreds of her friend’s mysteries; he lay there on her arm, caressed her cheeks with his hands not so strong, and stole glance in her eyes which danced as her talks went high.
Never did he leave her alone, searched for her eyes all day long, she looked forward along; every morning he woke up in her arms, ‘Ah! this is the best morning.’ he thought.
But his best summer came to a halt, before he named what he felt in his heart; like a mesmerising dream he held her in him.
He bore his summer girl, deep down his bosom; and loved to play his tune when alone;
Some words he should have said remained unspoken. he let her go, for it was his first crush, and he savoured the unsaid intimacy he had with her.
After a whole life, after the river of glooms, he lay enlightened, beneath the tree; the worth of childhood smile, at the end, was realised, and he lay down there in dirt, wearing the enlightenment, kissing the earth.
Unknown to his enlightenment, his family cried. He lay still, bearing the child’s smile, too lazy to leave his eternal nap of peace.
Birds and squirrels, his friends from childhood, peered from the boughs above, singing a merry song harmonious to the soul’s content he held within.
Born naked, dirt played, animals befriended; it took him a lifetime to realise that the dirt he now lay on was an eternal truth; the clothes of hippocracy and rationale, he had stripped; and the lost “socially ridiculed” friendship he had accepted again. Lying in dirt with his childhood embraced.
He fell in love, for the first time, with himself.
She’s like, a beautifully crafted piece of literature;
She’s like, an impeccably brushed canvas of miniature;
Like a mural’s splendor, she’s my soul’s plural, yet singular we stand ajar, bound in the music of sentimental silence;
The bosom’s lip sync, like the perfection of Mozart, like the harmony of Beethoven;
Her eyes rain love and faith,
I akin to a desperate prostitute, shameless not heartless,
Look up at her, to not lose a moment of falling for her,
Every time she blinks…
Let the newborn in me, grow in your cuddle;
The infant love cheer thru the verses;
Let the rhyming current of our sprouting purity end up in the ocean of love.
Possessed with heavenly curses, my love to stay in verses;
The voyage of love, thru the ocean of craving;
Oh beloved it’s stinging in the bosom, but beautiful is the pain;
Mah life without which is vain…
Like a mazed butterfly,
I wander in search of my delectable petal, in the desert of pain thru storms of pangs;
Only to find my feet landing on thorns, and my wings ripped in cacti bushes of your flinch;
Ah lord…to die in the thorns is all I’m destined but sweet is the sting and immortal will be my love,
lost in the bushes of my love…
Akin to a dream…
You walks into me at the nightfall, and parts as the night falls;
Wanders in me thru the night whispering lullaby of love and blessing me a sleep;
The abhorable morning takes you away,
Preferable is a morningless death, which never opens my lids;
And lets me sink in infinite time of love…
Like a drowning sailor beforea shore,
I look at you knowing that I deserve life,
but I drown realizing that being worthy isn’t a translation of being destined,
You were never a part of my life, but thru the life you were always a part of my soul…
Till the wrecking of my age I’ll keep sailing in search of an undestined shore…you!
Dated: Thursday, October 20, 2016
Timed: 11:42 AM
Very far from this world of rational,
far from this world of hippocracy;
Very far from the shades of grey, untouched by ubiquitous filth of sly,
Unknown of the struggle of subsistence,
Oh dear you dwell so far…
From me o lord,
you dwell so far, unknown of my pangs,
which in nights explodes in bangs, silent but hard;
night knocks my shadow and carries my shadow beneath the sky,
droplets of cold touch rain in your territory of reign,
the light may not be bright as my shadow feels light,
but I lift my horizons to glance at you.
Possessive for you, but light is all I get,
In desire of my sole claim on your name…
I bathe in your lights thru pangs and frights,
But one nights takes you away from me,
Another gifts me crescent face , a renewed energy in me swerves,
And veils the grief in my nerves.
Dated: Saturday, August 13, 2016
Timed: 4:24 PM