Poems

Flunkie Goes to Wonderland

Sing your heart
and mine will play along
and this night shall freeze
between our eyes.

Let go the undone
and fill this moment
with our
rendezvous reprise.

The melody of souls
would surf the breeze
under the moonbeams
from heaven

As, in the guise of
moonlit smiles shall flip
two worlds and
a piece of mind.

Crossing many miles
with the speed of light
those eyes see
right through a soul.

And dare not brim them
and please forgive them
for they are as yours
as mine.

…

With absolute reluctance I am putting this up. I am not sure of the repercussions though. This is way too special to me. But I guess sharing this won’t make it any less special. This one is very subject oriented and derives from course of happenings and circumstances that never were. Time changes, but, well old stuff when penned can take you back (for a ride).

The Another Morning

Aged leaves resting
in peace on grasses green,
wet with dew that shines,
like young drops of dreams.

Silhouettes found their colours,
as, to brightness
they surrender their light,
wake up friend let’s rewind,
its time
to play it again till the night.

…..

A very simple piece about mornings and our daily life, which is mostly a mere repitition.

…..

Seasons

Too weary of being

who I am
like a rusted mind in
july rain
I know only what I
feel
and I feel only if
its pain

I built castles in
the air
and gave them wings
till this day high
they fly
and when I expected
the least
came she,
knocked my door and
wished me bye

On the crest of many
valleys I rested
When I was far away
from me
seasons came as the
season left
added a chapter
setting me free.

Rain can wash you
down the stream
and rain can
fill you up
It was season I broke
down before
and on season my
hopes build up

It was a race and
I wasn’t fast enough
I fell three years
behind
Of all the things
that July rained on,
my heart I couldn’t
find.

…..

Anxious Partings

Vespers plague my solitary soul,

with seducing distant calls.

Intimidated and awestruck

I sense the tune of mute charm.

Polite breeze fondles,

compassionate of my warped ease,

while battling for toehold I,

forlorn…under the undefined sky

touch the line.

Hue less in the gloaming twilight,

ardent to embrace the sinister sheen

I stretch my arms,

only to touch the line abstracts that,

the world from the other one.

….

I wrote this when I was thirteen. Though my contentment with life was mush higher then, I was naturally inclined towards writing about the subtle mysticism surrounding death. I wrote this and a few others before I realized this might mean I am not taking the life as a teenager should. The result being my drifting away from writing altogether, before I took over again from  my latent self recently.

—-

The Martyr Must Survive

When sudden calls

echo in ears

of a thousand marching threats.

And beating drums

with wielding blades

come rumbling at the gates;

Clenching white

don’t raise their arms

(with hopes crushed in fists),

nor pick the shovel

to dig the bed

for their dreams to rest in peace.

Many wars to brave

many lives to win

many lessons still to imbibe,

come glory, defeat

or what the hell may

the martyr must survive.

….

This is supposedly the first written and first composed or at least (attempted composed) song for Inside out. Is virtually rhythm guitarist Boba’s second favorite. I wrote it in 2006.

—-

Demonic Resurrection

Satan at my gunpoint

The Soul has

parted long

Searching pool

of whirlwinds

and Asteroids

crashing down

Mountains flying past

Its raining molten steel,

Its the day of resurrection.

Underworld rebellious

Grove of graves

shudder in vengeance,

Forgotten what is light

Grinning goblins

Mocking Christ

clouding in my brain

he flaps his wings

like clouds and thunder

Its the day of resurrection.

The deads are

on their rise

The sun burned out

and the earth is going cold

feeble don’t survive

All is evil

once again.

Surrender all your lives

its a new dawn

of darkness

none escapes his might

Its the day of resurrection.

…

It was around time I was possessed with black metal and things of that sort. It also happened to be the time when we at Inside out were struggling around with genres. I wrote this to match the power and hatred that a feiry track should have. But sadly no other members were keen on shifting to death metal, the most adamant being our vocalist who happens to be a highly gifted singer and was no way willing to make any unconventional (mis)use of his vocal endoements. This poem never saw the daylight as a song but its appeal remains unaltered anyway.

—-