The Curse

From the darkest sadness in my heart,
From the coldest frost that thou hath cast,
From each piece of my shattered faith,
From the deepest pit of my fallen grace.

For all the pain you put me through,
For all things I did for you,
For all times that thou lied,
For all the tears that I did cry.

With all the grudge held in my head,
With the helpless moan of my inncocece’s death,
With all darkness summoned by night,
Hear ye! my curse and live in fright !

I curse, I curse, I place a curse on thee …
My curse dear God, let it be,
That Never shalt thou get thy love,
And never shalt thee bear a son!
My curse will follow thee for seven lives,
And stab thee in like an unseen knife,
And hurt and itch and burn and sting,
As time flies by on raven’s wings.

Amen.

Regret

Ah! There goes one more moment of my lifetime,
Like a small piece of camphor
that for some unknown heat doth sublime,
Nothing done for God, nothing done for mankind,
But I simply did the things that satisfy the greed of my mind.

I wish I could get that moment back to me,
And express the love, loyalty and feelings
that in my heart used to be,
For now I miss the special one I met,
But she went away
like quick demise of a golden yellow autumn sunset.

The sunset whose beauty you want to
admire to your heart’s deepest content,
The one which in your heart idle tears did send.

I love the loneliness of these yellow woods,
The modesty and vacancy which fills
when by the selfish wind yellow leaves are shook,
The apathy of this chill,
And no sympathy with which the world is filled.

There falls a leaf…
Like cruel death of my highly treasured ambition,
Now I know life,
I know it goes on in this fashion…

The Glorious blaze of Lightening

I can see the lightening,
Tearing the chest of sky,
Up in its aerial dwelling,
Which is quite high.

Accompanied by thunder,
Which roars like wonder,
There it glares in the depth of the night,
Like the chest of a dark dragon,
Torn by spear of ‘The Lilac Knight’,

Lightening – the mauve sun, Lights up the dark sky!
Brilliant lilac fills the dark night,
Like a phoenix with its brilliant plumes,
In a zigzag meandering flight.

The thunder growls,
The big trees howl,
The earth below is wet,
With it’s own disgusted sweat,

In Winter’s Remembrance

In this idle month of raking summer,
I sit and remember all the charms of winter,

I remember the cold dry branches of leafless trees,
Gliding of falling yellow leaves, in the cold arms of frosty breeze.

Silence all around, serenity and solitude,
The sun and clouds, in their eternal feud,

Uncertain fog, mist and haze,
Still afternoons and sun’s golden rays,

Beneath my feet, crunching of fallen yellow leaves,
Cold silent wind that sounds like a heave,

Christmas, with all its mirth and warmth,
Frosty outdoors, but warmth in the heart,

Carols, cakes, mistletoes and lights,
Santa Claus, all his elves in flight,

The comforting warmth of my sweetheart’s touch,
Anticipation in her eyes and her clutch…

I miss winter and all its warmth,
Yes, I love winters and all its charms,

So come soon winter, I wait for thee,
In the shade of a silent willow tree.

Dry & Clear

I am slate black I am slack.

Helpless, my genial spirits travail to survive,
Destiny, the mystery, on their efforts doth strike,
I lack ‘my’ talents; I miss the serenity I used to possess,
The tranquility of mind that annihilates stress,
I’m not out of my body, yet out of my mind,
I want to see, but I’m made blind.

I tried to succeed,
But every effort failed,
A worthless effort,
An endeavor in vain,
I was trampled and grounded,
I was ignored and abused,
I was ridiculed and raped,
I was played with and misused.

But still something deep within survived,
When my ‘self ‘ almost died,
My un-surrendering spirits,
like a handicapped athlete cried.

“Why didn’t it die?” to myself I said,
“I’d have been much better off, had it been dead”;
For fools have the gift of ignorance,
Powerful of abusive might,
But the most pathetic being
is the spirit that tries to survive.

This toil and turmoil,
The uncertainty in life,
Feels like a septic wound,
Being scraped by a knife,
No trust, no love,
No element of beauty,
A hardening of mind and heart,
Dryness all around,
That balmish ‘yester’
Is nowhere to be found.

On death of my faith and My surrender

Autumn, autumn, my Lord loved autumn,
So He chose autumn for me,
Autumn and its silence… let forever be.

Autumn, sweet autumn, I struggled for Spring,
Autumn sweet autumn, …and destiny broke my shins,
I fell and wept
over the fallen leaves,
under the sympathetic trees…

I cried there in autumn,
warm tears rolling down the cheeks,
I laid there lamenting
the memories of faithless spring…

I cursed me and my angels,
I hated my very being,
I scratched the soil of life
in hope of being redeemed.

But Autumn had the patience,
to let my patience die,
Sweet autumn surrounded me
till hope of redemption died…

Now Autumn is a part of me,
Sweet Autumn, never part with me,
The promise of Autumn – “Eternity”,
That’s why my Lord chose Autumn for me…

Autumn, sweet Autumn in the May born’s eye…

Black

The camouflaged sword of time, in its single abrupt stroke,
Cuts through the flesh of friendship, love and hope,
Things fall apart, friendship grows stale,
In the midst of crowd, useless rat race,
It’s abrupt yet gradual…
Taunts are healthy, talents are dulled,
Quick and sudden fall from grace,
Innocence has a scar-studded face,
I’ve lost my grip, I’ve lost my pace.

Why should she love me?

Wrote this one, when I realised that love is not just a saying “I love you” but a way of life.It’s helping and sharing the good and bad times. This one goes to all those men, who love someone, but are not fortunate enough to be with the person.

Why should she love me?
When I am not around,
At times and days when she is down,
Far away in another town…
Seeking to fulfil my own greeds,
Failing to fulfil her sweet heart’s needs.

Why should she love me?
For in springs do we meet?!
To share the fruits but never the reeds,
That grow in the blooming gardens of her thoughts,
For I am not the gardener,
Who trims the thorny boughs.

Why should she love me?
When I know I don’t deserve it,
I am just a name and not the real hermit,
Who walks through the darkness with a lamp in hand,
To show the path through confusing lands.

I grieve and grieve,
On my splendid failure,
My ego, my libido,
My inexistent grandeur,
For I wish and long,
To be ‘the gardener’, ‘the selfless hermit’,
To be ‘The Man’, who really deserves it.

Mesmerized

Your smile can light up the dark,
Your eyes compel my heart,
Your hair are like silk of the night,
Casting it’s spell through beholder’s sight,
You are an example of His perfection…

To my beloved – Thoughts on a Summer’s Evening

Come to me my beloved,
Come and feel my feelings for you;
Feelings which are beautiful and pious,
Like spring’s morning breeze, hone and dew.

Give your delicate hands in mine,
Let your head rest on my bosom,
Let me feel your hairs’ fragrance,
In your tranquil beauty forget the world’s confusion.

Do not utter a word, feel my adoration through the throbbing of my heart…
Let me gaze in the brilliance of your eyes for my part,
Come closer, feel the ecstasy of this evening’s tranquility,
And let me be lost in the radiance of your beauty for eternity.