Wednesday 7 May 2014

A Beautiful Dream

Finding nothingness in this search
I quench for the last sip
are things meant to be this way?
Dreams,
To what I clenched tight
Blurry and merely illusions
As reality kick in
Clocks start ticking
For I am Wide awake
Wondering...

In times of hazy judgement 
One can see the light
But not the way...
Dreams are but forseen future..
For night and day are logical thoughts
Sleep comes when the minds hazy...

Hazy minds need no distraction
For they see a different kind of light
Logical thoughts too seem to fade
As daylight distinguishes from the night
Sleep is for the old man
who has lived many years to see
For I am only a budding flower
A flower when spring finally wakes

The seasons are strange
Life some offers yet death comes after,
Budding flowers bloom in plenty
Fragrance enchants the air
Yet hail of shower stones the elegant
Flowers by plenty and the air filled with rot...
Be weary of the seasons
They change like the clouds dark yet heavenly...

Banish Fear and Ignorance
For the tide has hit the shores tonight
Welcome the unwelcoming
Release the mental thoughts
As stars dim underneath these clouds
Even silence is slowly swallowed
One moment after another
Dark and Husky shadows of light
As the flames from the candle dies...

Fear is for the brave as ignorance for the wise
Both shapes a soul
the tides are ashore and many to come in haste
For the tides need no gesture of welcome 
Nor did it ever know silence like the calm stars
The flames may die but the ashes will remain 
Embedded in the sands of shore
and the tales of flame the tides shall carry
a hope of silence for these restless tides...

Such like the tales of sorrow briefly washed along the sea
No permanence will it ever know
As fishes do not live to see
No glory in death not glory in living
The colorful canvas paints itself red
In tales of woe yet to be told...

Such is the joyous tragedy of life
the birds sing to the funeral
the dogs bark to the shadows
the breeze blows through a fire
the truth no one knows
if the fishes could speak and the sun could rest
impermanence would just be another lie...

If lies could be told
the rays of heaven speak blasphemy
As sen seek the truth and life does forsee the hidden path
Fire only replays the role left to burn
"As ashes to ashes
Dust to dust"
The golden words remain to b spoken
As winds carry the last sound from the dying conch
Through it be a message of hope...

How far does thee seek?
The realm hidden beneath all beauty
For the fulfillment of the bread when eaten
To the staleness of the yeast untouched
Everything else whispers silence
When truth seems to break and heal
Ans the winds of change come in...

I seek no truth to life
I seek no fountain of happiness
For the lead dried and decay
the winds carry me and the ponds embrace me in circle
I seek not the way nor the path
I remain covered with dirt
For a day will come
When the path find me...

Will the real P please stand up! (Feb 2021-October 2023)

What is the use of feeling nostalgia when all I remember is not how hard he loved but rather how I was deceived? Looking back at the thousan...