Destiny's drum beatsDestiny's drums resound with Loud and clear beats Bidding me to get into a trance And start dancing As awkwardly as would A broken doll, With one eye missing And with my hair, partly burnt! The children of the world Can help not but Look at me with disdain Written upon their faces And cannot understand My moves Since they cannot hear Those beats And since they live their lives As would empty robots, Automatically going on the way Their senses push them to! Minding not their confusing, I keep on dancing As I am confident that Someday I shall be made into Those drum beats as well And I shall be played By Destiny's hands For the sake of some Awakened soul, Treading aimlessly In a meaningless world! The Ignorant Ones and IMy senses are my rulers Boasted the ignorant ones And, Satisfying them Remains our sole intent Whereas you, Lamenting poet Seeking the skies' opening, Remain dumb and dull, Always waiting for a miracle To happen so as to Imbibe in you Some positive vibes! I could not help but look At them with pity in my eyes As, Their fate has already been Sculpted for them: A fall back into a vicious cycle Laden with punishment And rewards As they shall deserve! If I be a lamenting poet, Then, the world Just be for me, A blank sheet of paper Upon which I keep writing Of what shall remain as My living memory here As Unlike the ignorant ones My departure from this world shall not Be tagged with a return ticket! Muse, for you Muse, It's been so long since I wrote for you, It's been so long That the zeal that burns in me Just by the hope that somehow Someday, We shall meet in the skies Is powerful enough as to Turn the whole cosmos Into ashes within seconds! When we shall meet, I hope to be adorned With a flowery dress, A golden crown And my magic wand! Yes, I hope to see you run to me, Panting, breathless, handsome And so needy That one look into your eyes Would have me forget About the hurt and the pain That accompanied me always While I tried to stay afloat In the murky waters of the world That I could never like, However much it gave to me! I hope to dive into your chest, And release tears of joy, While creepers would flow From our hearts And intertwine with each other, By writing, For us both, A poem About our love, That survived the hurdle Of existing In worlds separated by blue skies And expanses of dark matter! Muse, I hope to see you being Over possessive And macho To the extent Of denying me the right To ever leave your side again, As, Muse, You probably have no idea Of how pain pulsates proudly In me In every breath that I take In a world Which shall never belong to me! A cup of healing teaIf pain could get healed By sipping a cup Of fragrant tea, Wouldn't life have music Running in its river waters And blowing in its winds? More, wouldn't it have poems Shining towards us in its sunlight And sprouting as flowers, Fragranced with the hues Of the romance as it is Associated with the moon each night? Wouldn't we be that which we Were expected to be: Beings made of higher consciousness, Fully aware that we refuse to hanker After that which this world gives Because, It remains elusive! Why, If only life could have healed itself By sipping a cup of fragrant tea, The blinded humans would Have realised That running after and trying To chase thunderstorms Would only lead them to being Struck by lightning, Unable to even understand At what is it that has hit them! Life's PurposeThe purpose of life, I shouted out to the mirror, I seek to understand about The purpose of life, Since, Everything that we do Does eventually End up being for nothing! Bodies get worn out And even disintegrate into nothingness So, Is there any specific purpose in living? My reflection dissipated with my tears And the light of my room flickered on and off, While the windows burst open with the raging winds Which whispered to me, You already know the answer, The energy has already given it to you, Yet, You keep choosing to hurt yourself By reacting to what The material and perishable body Is attracted to! And in the mystery of the mythical night, There appeared in my hands, A book, with empty pages, titled, "The Essence of Life!" Write it, Whispered the winds, Write of life As you have experienced it And you shall realise of its purpose! Nothing MattersMy pain matters not
Because I am skilled At painting a smiling mask On the tragedy that adorns me! My hurt matters not Because my sensibility Seems to be like a diseased rose Invaded by lice and looking like It seeks solely to be uprooted To make way for fresher ones! My broken heart matters not Because I know how to level it With my obligations upon a scale; And these compel me To show my strength As would a fir tree upon a snowy land! My dreams matter not For they are probably the products Of madness as it has been tattooed Upon my forehead And since madness has never been Resolved, then, Why should dreams be fretted for? My spiritual path matters not Why should it, after all? No one knows what awaits us After death And promises of an eternal afterlife In an evergreen and shielded realm Uttered forth in a voice barely audible Are simply meant to be used As the foundations for a good joke! Why, nothing about me matters at all More so Since the body that carries me Shall turn into ashes someday And thrown, if lucky enough, In the open seas! Nothing matters at all, Since yesterdays cannot be changed And tomorrows are not promised Nothing matters, Not even the fact that Nothing matters about me!
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