A cantankerous old man, A wrinkled face, Infinite desires, Small but Impecunious family, An entire lifetime, Desecrated soul shouting, Trying to ameliorate the living, That innocent child is dead, For many years now, Which laughed uncontrollably, The consistent carping snatched his breath, Now, the lethargic body, And the inefficient mind, Are waiting together, […]
An old man and the innocent child… Read More »
A gift box, Shining and glowing, Rimmed with colored dust, Made with finesse, Is sitting on the table, Projecting its surreal beauty, The variegated stripes on its cover, tried to add value, To the gift sitting inside the box, The magnificent box increased the curiosity, What might be inside? With fervor, it was
I woke up, Or was I dreaming, It was standing, And my fear disseminating, I looked, It reciprocated, I was prudent, It seemed bent, I pressed the switch, The light got scattered, I saw myself in the mirror, My laughter swallowed the terror…
I woke up, And walked away, Ignoring, The body, As it was moribund, Lately, The body was behaving, Like a sluggard, Dragging itself, As if it was, under lots of pressure, to fulfill the dreams, to stop the heart’s screams, to live before dying, But, As I saw it, Resting under the mud,
There was a house made of wood, 10 feet above the ground, On the large tree it stood. There were windows which brought fresh air, And there was dust, which accompanied the air. The rustling air flowed from one window to the other, and the soul sitting inside was peaceful, It felt as if in
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