My poetic theme and substance
Which engage me?
Will you see the evenings coloured with
My angst, bewilderment and faith and doubt?
I man of split personality am I,
Splitting my life and seeing,
Which I know not
What am I doing?
What poet am I, what it is in my poetry,
What am I for, what I can in my poetry?
I know not all these answers,
Whatever I have, you see it yourself
Before you select for any probe and analysis
As because It may also be that
I have just lied you,
Misled you with my pessimism and despondence,
My despair not at all healthy,
Which you will not understand it now.
My poems they do not have any prospect for them
My poems they will lie as thus,
And that day too is not far from
When you will find them lying useless
As there is nothing to read in them,
As have just wasted your time.