Of the red in the skies and the dance with the leaves
Of the breeze in my hair and the desire to be there....
Of the right to dream and to feel able to capture
Of a reason to live, a reason to belong to oneself
A reason to strive, a meaning to life
Of the joy to open my palm and know that I can achieve...
But then what if it died before it was born-
What if the choice was wrong, what if the longing remained-
Worse: what if none exists?
What if there is no direction
What if the search has been futile
The eyes dry, tired yet hopeful
That it shall soon appear and the seeking shall end.
Living like the dead, hurting like the wounded
And seeking retribution like the wronged,
Dignity lost like a body being dragged to the funeral pyre;
I pay my respects to a dream thats now a memory
An ode to my 'still born' vision...
Hmm..now thats a lovely ode...!
ReplyDeleteWas wondering how come u hadnt written any for a while and what kept you busy types..
Wish to comment abt the poem, but dont wanna add to any controversy, so wud just mail you my thoughts - in anycase am sure without me even mailing you, you surely would know my thought direction.
But yes, whatever said and done..the poem has a lot of innocence weaved right thru it and I guess thats what makes it special to read.
"Living like the dead, hurting like the wounded
ReplyDeleteAnd seeking retribution like the wronged,
Dignity lost like a body being dragged to the funeral pyre;
I pay my respects to a dream thats now a memory
An ode to my 'still born' vision... "
loved this part.....
look up, not down, forward not back, you have what you have and nothing can take that from you
ReplyDeletekeep chasing the ephemeral, how far can the bastard run?
In the meantime, you know where home and shelter are, always welcoming with open arms