Lost words of a poet

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They smiled each day
As Humility made them stronger
The meek and amiable voice
Wasn’t heard.
The gazes of satire
On filthy inhumanity
From the large windowpane
Unobserved.
And words deformed into meaning
Eventually.
Time couldn’t rob them of
From who they were.


The remains of those lost words,
Incite us to embrace an illusion,
Of time, being in a scurry.
As we cross paths
That unite us
With our mortal being,
The wanderer mocks at us
Steer us towards the light
Away from this misery.


Few lives we live
And for few
We outlive decades,
For the selfless
Mere blood and flesh
To ourselves, we deceive.


In this land of grief and fear
We die and reborn
Everyday.
From the ruins
Of those lost poets
And the souls
Who lived a life
Of discontent and drear.

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Distant Dream

origamy


I heard a voice.
Impeccable diamond rain.
Gentle, from behind.


Followed a trail,
To the origin.
Diverted by the wind.


I travelled so,
All senses disabled.
Dragonfly in the town.


Flowers of paper,
Shivering earth.
Coloured pale brown.


I saw a tree,
Stopping by me.
Sun coated gold.


Often closed window.
World enacting peace,
With songs untold.


I looked at sky,
Lone on an island.
Stars now fade.


Fire never met ocean.
Couldn’t breathe the vibe,
Under their crusade.


I found the wild.
In the distant moon,
Scar of a rift.


Few more letters.
Lost elucidation,
In a dream adrift.