Sorrow and grief
Let them come
I fear not as I have made them friends
And living amicably for long
If I do not have delight
Then, what is that to life
I have enough light of sorrow
Any layers of darkness to pierce through.
With the help of their weight
I dive into an un-fathomable deep
And challenge the sun rays
When I fly on their golden wings
If I have no joy
Then, what is that to life
As I make a feast out of sorrow and grief which
I have in abundance to enjoy,
So death is very natural to meIf you still want me to cryI shall do thatBut rememberI have no tears to shedAs you made my ducts dryAll deaths are equalNo difference to me at allWhether a bullet or bombKills a childNo biasKnown to my tear dropsNo colour I feelI suffer the same painWhen a child…
Or just a frame with bone and fleshBut that is not me with a head.In that head I contain somethingAnd occasionally I bring that forthYou may know the man by nameBut you know not my intrinsic worth.Essence of life to one may be many a thingBut insinuation of my existence is intellectIntelligence counts and counts…
Is not meant for you but out of a treeLong; long ago I planted deep insideFor the cause of falling from highAnd my inability to climb, till date, a cliffThe pungent smell of my behaviourThe pinching quality in my attitudeI spray around is not the return how you treatBut for the cause of my inability…
With my closed eyesWhen some one or something frightens meIn my imaginations
On a canvasPaints a pictureWith closed eyesIn flashed imagesWhat he sees.RegardlessOf CultureAnd locationHe perceivesPent up FeelingsIn the same wayAlmost similarIn meaningBy doodlingIn the formOf a pictureAnd unveilsA world ofWonderBy paintingWith closed eyesIn flashed imagesWhat he sees.
Or at least become a great poet, If IConcur with you all that my home is not my homeNo matter how long I have been living thereNow I am nothing, just a thorn in your eyeAs I do not give up my land where I was bornBetween two rivers in the shade under an olive…
