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Paradox of words – a poem
Crime of loosing oneself
Slowly and steadily, knowingly a slay hitherto
Flaw and bravely, A massacre
Yet this is better for breathing
For inhaling own blood……………….
Bare truth of marooned sheathing
To live it’s to kill, to walk it’s to feel
And a massacre
Yet it’s better to animate, for inhaling own mind
Rare froth of crooned loneliness
And tears of fire flow
Heart is a burnt song of yester years
Mind is silhouetted throng of carcass
Soul is journey of disguise ……………..
Bohemian search before meeting miles
And I murder my being……..
Little space to be blessed with
Then incessant empty parade of words
Crime of murdering a void
Pregnant symphony of meanings
Blazed with the fire within
Abused rare care of tender touches
Melt in the crime of negligence
Eyes hunt yet another sign of gaffe
Unanswered questions to be unheard
Disappearing vanity in the air
Colourless dreams to pipe up
For death is a transparent odyssey within !!!!!!
A paradox of being till the eternity ………
Crave to be end to begin for nothing
And a path to end in a new start….
Still life moves on….to die till it’s born ……
A walk down the path never ending
To nowhere !!!!!
A crime to kill for no meaning unsaid…Unheard
Drops of solitude crave for noises….neglected lexicon unused.