Frost. Quiver. Echo. Long. Forsake

This post is again courtesy the prompt words given by the very kind S.T.J on Twitter. I owe whatever I write these days to the kindness of her being. In an ideal world I should have written a book having all this encouragement but the blocks in my mind always get the better of me.

 

The frost-bitten birds

flock eastwards,

flapping their feeble wings

holding maps in their eyes

of the warmth of loving waters.

They dip and dance,

nest and mate,

before seeing their love life curtailed.

Their tiny hearts quiver and quail

with every echo of a gunshot.

They cannot do life nor love

and are left longing for a place

they will never forsake.

A Rebuttal Of Fate

We are built
to be eroded
with the blows of time.

Now when I lose a piece
here or a chunk there,
I hold it tight, the treasure of

love, kept in the safety of heart
sealed with ego;

just don’t hand time
the stilettos of your lashes
to exhume it.

Preserved, this love
will mock the vicious ways
of our fate,

that crumbs us to death
after luring us to life.

Its been re written in light of Cav’s and a few others’ suggestions. I hope its better this time around;

We are built
to be eroded
by the strokes of time.

Time chiseled
to amputate the idols
I sculpted in my dreams;
now it wants to lacerate
my chest, looking
for the reservoir of love
kept in the safety of heart.

Just don’t hand time
the spears of your lashes
to exhume my love–

preserved, it will
mock the turns
of our sadistic fate

interested only in
keeping our ruins intact
after granting us
a handful of breaths.

A ride on the back of time

541646505_bc780d8052I jumped onto the helm of time
and held the reins of desires
to start off a journey.

A mere trot changed
into racing gallops and it
shuffled each of the sights
I laid my gaze on, keeping
the thirst of my eyes unquenched.
I was shaken off my seat
every time the earth raised
its slumbering head under its hoofs.
Amid the chaos, wishes
turned into curses

I showed time the way,
but it brought me here instead;
to the brink of a world
colored in Grey, raring
to take me along to
the darker shades of obscurity.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.flickr.com

A Hurting Departure..

132883178_c00a26b0dcIt was fine then; when
your separation octopused
my soul and devoured
it calmly, stealthily.

Now, the departure of
your thoughts is hurting
the very place, which
placed them for eternity.

Do me a favor, if you can!
Tell them not to shout, not
to mock at the hollow
they forsake; tell them
leave it quietly to
a natural crumble,
brick by brick
to the ground!

Photo Courtesy: http://www.flickr.com

The heart craves while the mind’s dead

The memory lane of my mind,

with all the extensions to eternity,

is blocked by a variety of reasons

and the gloom rules in its entirety.

Caught in the abyss, I grope for a clue

which could lead me at least to a glimpse;

a slightest of your smiles that you so lavishly

gave, or any of your tears; the little jewels

that I used to collect in my palm.

My woes it seems are willfully increased

by a contemptuous Fate, when it decided

to leave my heart untamed.