METROPOLIS

METROPOLIS
Between my two arms I hold the reflection of a mini world,
That reverberate through me every moment;
A collage of a lights whizzing, sounds humming and souls brushing my skin.
A scenario of utter commotion dilutes this world of mine,
So I hold it in my arms….

Sitting in a place where mundaneness is the theme to comprehend,
Striking hammers, boisterous shades are the bits of truth,
From somewhere below the surface I hear a harp,
Playing a tune of wild, preaching a mournful divorce.

It speaks of a flamboyant fortified wall, never dared to be conquered,
Yet inside the gates the wall gets injured by dark naily scratches,
For eternity these marks will remain.
It speaks of a light that once lit in the midst of darkness,
A light of fire soon to be extinguished by the cyan tides,
Tides that can be already seen if you can climb,
Not very far away….

It tells the story of foggy, shadowy lanes,
Vividly coloured by lights that struggle to burn on.
Of lakes and oceans that lay dry,
Never washed by rivers,
Ladders that broke by each step,
Injured by thudding feet,
And faithless spirits....

My arms get wearied by the load that adds since it has flourished,
I arise from the depths, dissolving into the surface.......

LOOKING THROUGH A MISTY GLASS

LOOKING THROUGH A MISTY GLASS

Was it not yesterday that sky seemed so clear,
The sun so soft, the sky so blue and every reason to cheer.
Yes, it was yesterday when the oak tree by my window,
Showed its allurement with its branches so bright, leaves so green.
It was just yesterday when the birds brought from far,
Twigs and dry grass to build a nest;
It was looking like a mothers lap this morning……

All of it is now so blur,
Patches of green so mixed with brown,
No more can I see the conspicuous yellow strokes.
The birds are lost in the midst of nowhere.
There I see a shadow….. of a human,
Drifting with the breeze, a stretch never less.

Yes he was a friend of mine…. He is no more,
Every time his back I saw I felt so thorough.
Time haunted me like a gloomy spirit;
But why does it seem today…… the breeze, which I can’t feel,
So pleasant, so soothing yet taking a part of me away.

It was may be yesterday or the day before,
That this little girl with her stray dog roamed about the streets,
In search of some scrap also a bit of rotten food.
Beyond my glass window today she appears as a patch of grey,
A patch so similar to the sky, that it seems all the same.
And yet with all my zeal inside sit, sit and watch;
My soul so full of me, so afraid to open a mere window.

I watched today the space outside through a misty glass……..