...for some the wounds never heal,
and the bleeding heart would not seal.
scars can not find a place
beacuse there is just corroded flesh.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
MIGRAINE
This was then and that is now
Auras, trees and broken boughs.
An insomniancs dreams in the dark
Behind watery eyes, a faint light lurks.
A hundred bells ringing, a thousand drums roar
And a battered brain can not take much more.
A search for Salvation fading out fast
Peace of mind, a thing of the past.
Reaching out from beneath the murky waters deep
Tired of fatigue but there still is no sleep.
Amytriptilline....
Auras, trees and broken boughs.
An insomniancs dreams in the dark
Behind watery eyes, a faint light lurks.
A hundred bells ringing, a thousand drums roar
And a battered brain can not take much more.
A search for Salvation fading out fast
Peace of mind, a thing of the past.
Reaching out from beneath the murky waters deep
Tired of fatigue but there still is no sleep.
Amytriptilline....
Monday, September 29, 2008
"AGE"
Drops of youth, drizzling fast,
The virgin greenery flashing past,
As a little boy rides his fantastic steed,
The strappling beast is flying indeed.
Flying through the clouds hanging about
Its hooves kicking up fire, without a doubt.
The little boy holding on to the mane
The fiery spirit easing all his pain.
Untamed, the beast soars to the sky
The moon and the stars pass it by.
It kept up its demanding pace,
The flowing years, it tried to race.
A futile venture, one it could not win.
It lost to Age, fast though it had been.
The little boy, now a strong man,
Dismounted and far and fast he ran.
He wanted power, he wanted speed
Not an old, slow, and useless steed.
The horse and the rider, as one they lost
“Another victim of mine”, Age did boast.
tty
The virgin greenery flashing past,
As a little boy rides his fantastic steed,
The strappling beast is flying indeed.
Flying through the clouds hanging about
Its hooves kicking up fire, without a doubt.
The little boy holding on to the mane
The fiery spirit easing all his pain.
Untamed, the beast soars to the sky
The moon and the stars pass it by.
It kept up its demanding pace,
The flowing years, it tried to race.
A futile venture, one it could not win.
It lost to Age, fast though it had been.
The little boy, now a strong man,
Dismounted and far and fast he ran.
He wanted power, he wanted speed
Not an old, slow, and useless steed.
The horse and the rider, as one they lost
“Another victim of mine”, Age did boast.
tty
MAYBE
Maybe it is just another day
And I can be what I may.
Maybe it is just another night
And I can not be all right
Maybe I will lend you an ear
And I will pretend to hear,
To all your woes and stories sad.
May be I am all I had.
Maybe I can be what I may
Because it is just another day
Maybe I can be not all right
Because it is just another night
And I pretend and act right through
And I hate I have to do
And I forget all I ever knew.
Maybe: only maybe is true.
And I can be what I may.
Maybe it is just another night
And I can not be all right
Maybe I will lend you an ear
And I will pretend to hear,
To all your woes and stories sad.
May be I am all I had.
Maybe I can be what I may
Because it is just another day
Maybe I can be not all right
Because it is just another night
And I pretend and act right through
And I hate I have to do
And I forget all I ever knew.
Maybe: only maybe is true.
RAIN
Unbeckoned, one stormy night,
Lightening flashes and the thunder roars,
The darkness; a beautiful sight.
Relentless and unforgiving, the clouds pour
The cold water: the torrid rain
Not to be seen but heard so well
As raindrops patter on the windowpane
And whisper softly a bedtime tale.
Leaden eyelids and an overpowering urge
To float away and linger around,
To get drenched and to purge
The mind of its sins; those to be found.
Lost, on one stormy night,
Sleep beckons and dreams smile bright.
THE ANTIDOTE
(1)
Lights blinked around my open eyes
Seeming to be a thousand little fireflies.
I knew they were but in my head
Holding on to sanity, though doom it may have bade.
I saw sunshine everywhere,
Shining on mirrors, clear beyond compare,
Except somewhere in my scorched heart-
Where darkness always plays a mean part.
A mean part in an unending play,
Throw in some dissent into the fray.
(2)
The tendrils of the dark started to creep
Like a toxic poison through me it may sweep.
I reached out for the antidote, that called love
But my head asked my heart: “Am I good enough?”
I hesitated; I could not answer that
My body racked, as brooding I sat.
(3)
I want to get over things like these
But the devil takes over- I start to wheeze.
Suddenly all change, everything goes dark,
Misshapen and grotesque shadows lurk.
(4)
Gloom settles down, thunder-clouds roar
Sunshine tries in vain to push to the fore.
The chill breeze ripples the surface of the lake
The devil has found another nubile soul to take.
To make it his own and order it around
So it does his bidding without uttering a sound.
(5)
I see darkness, and I see pain
I look back, and I see my bane.
I see sorrow, and I see tears
I see nothing and i feel unknown fears.
I run left, and I look right,
Then i see hope- a single ray of light.
(6)
I swim throught he darkness and trudge through the swap,
And to salvation.
The light comes closer; grows bigger too.
Spreading its arms to embrace me; I feel no woe.
I reach out for it
With my eyes strangely lit.
(7)
I reach out for the antidote: that called love
I give myself up; it does not feel so tough.
I give myself up to love
As it courses through me and makes me laugh.
I give myself up to love
The antidote is something I can never have enough.
A BALEFUL SONG
Once upon a time when it still rained,
There lived a man; the tides waxed and waned.
Crimson tides- right or wrong?
Soulful eyes and a baleful song.
But the seas dried up and icebergs loomed
Dark red flowers no longer bloomed.
The flowers bled their crimson red
Pale and wrinkled, lost and dead.
But it rained; it rained lust,
The man smiled in death for the sordid past.
People repulsed and emotions scorned,
Laughed till they cried; only one mourned.
Not out of love but loathing deep
He understood it to be paradoxical grief.
Oh, no!
Oh, no!
Oh, yes!
There lived a man; the tides waxed and waned.
Crimson tides- right or wrong?
Soulful eyes and a baleful song.
But the seas dried up and icebergs loomed
Dark red flowers no longer bloomed.
The flowers bled their crimson red
Pale and wrinkled, lost and dead.
But it rained; it rained lust,
The man smiled in death for the sordid past.
People repulsed and emotions scorned,
Laughed till they cried; only one mourned.
Not out of love but loathing deep
He understood it to be paradoxical grief.
Oh, no!
Oh, no!
Oh, yes!
UNFORGIVEN II
A mind and body by the Satan driven
Apathy- I am unforgiven.
Love’s labours lost, the past flashes by,
Unasked questions, unspoken they die.
Something has changed-no rhythm or rhyme,
There may no longer be a need, or maybe no time.
Darker than night as i stare at the sky
I frown and stare at the sun and wonder why.
Often so buoyant, sometimes a little low
A small chink somewhere, I do not know.
I do not feel true, but what I feel is not true,
Unanswered- are you unforgiven too?
NIRVANA
He confided in her, and then he confessed,
His musings soon left her impressed,
Amazed by his visions,
And surprised by his passion.
Garlands he wove and songs he crooned
While the rain fell and the thunder boomed.
The water flowed away, so much like time,
There was no one to turn it in to wine.
As he kept on singing, eons elapsed
The sky lit up, and religions collapsed.
A new music formed, vivid and vibrant.
The air held its breath; the earth lay spent.
Senses exploded, a thousand bells tolled
Time stopped; upon the Holy Spirit he called.
The sun mellowed to a glow, it ceased to burn,
The value of his ballads, she started to learn.
Then he left her, the clouds embraced him.
She could but cry for her shattered dream.
MIRAGE
(1)
The sun bore down with all its force,
The sparrow pressed on with its course.
A little bird flying, lonely and lost,
With grim determination, greater than most.
Wishing for a respite from the scorching heat,
Getting back to its clan will be an improbable feat.
Still it yearns for a sojourn with its mate.
If only the hot wind would abate!
Thirst soon supresses its urge to fly,
And it searches for water low and high.
Far away it spots a river, twinkling and clear,
It rushes to it for a drink, for its life dear.
But alas, it is only a mirage...
(2)
Fly on little sparrow,
You can not reach a mirage.
It is only an illusion
As it always was.
Fly on little sparrow,
Fly towards your sorrow.
(3)
Mirage...
The little one stops flapping its wings,
It falls out of the sky like an inanimate thing.
It falls, and falls, to rest on the sand.
It falls from grace, in a graceless land.
“Water”, is the last thought it thinks.
(4)
It rains, it rains, it rains so hard,
Wetting the wanting throat of the bird.
The sparrow comes back from the dead
And the desert dances for its love.
A mirage...
A miracle; blessings showered from the heavens above.
SEASONS
The extent of your lips
I want to see
O’ skies!
I go crazy when you smile.
Hide int the
Salty waters of your twinkling rain.
I slip and slide.
I quake
In the darkest of jungles
Where air fails to breathe.
You start to melt
And I melt in your love.
Winter comes in return,
And the monsoons are over.
Winter heralds Summer
Of ice-creams and cold drinks.
Waves, bask in your dreams.
I am hoping for a Spring:
Will the rose buds bloom?
Translated from Dr. Pranjal Goswami’s Asssamese Poem “KABITA”
I want to see
O’ skies!
I go crazy when you smile.
Hide int the
Salty waters of your twinkling rain.
I slip and slide.
I quake
In the darkest of jungles
Where air fails to breathe.
You start to melt
And I melt in your love.
Winter comes in return,
And the monsoons are over.
Winter heralds Summer
Of ice-creams and cold drinks.
Waves, bask in your dreams.
I am hoping for a Spring:
Will the rose buds bloom?
Translated from Dr. Pranjal Goswami’s Asssamese Poem “KABITA”
HIS’TRY TKNG
My patient,
A young man named “Identification”,
Coming from the realm
Where the breeze can not breathe,
The eart convulses,
And water dies of thirst,
Has been admitted to the hospital
With the presenting complaints of:
Sorrow, for the last fifteen days
Hunger, for the last five days
Anger, since two days back.
A stooped farmer by profession,
He is sad when
His farms, his precious farsms,
Fail to give corp.
His eyes reflect all his sorrows
But there are no tears.
When his child wails in hunger
He gets angry
And to vent his frustration,
He beats up his loving wife.
On examination, it has been seen, Sir
He is Earth,
He is Water,
He is Air.
Sir,
Will he never talk again?
Translated from Dr. Pranjal Goswami’s Assamese poem of the same name
A young man named “Identification”,
Coming from the realm
Where the breeze can not breathe,
The eart convulses,
And water dies of thirst,
Has been admitted to the hospital
With the presenting complaints of:
Sorrow, for the last fifteen days
Hunger, for the last five days
Anger, since two days back.
A stooped farmer by profession,
He is sad when
His farms, his precious farsms,
Fail to give corp.
His eyes reflect all his sorrows
But there are no tears.
When his child wails in hunger
He gets angry
And to vent his frustration,
He beats up his loving wife.
On examination, it has been seen, Sir
He is Earth,
He is Water,
He is Air.
Sir,
Will he never talk again?
Translated from Dr. Pranjal Goswami’s Assamese poem of the same name
THE MAVERICK
Riding home on lightning, he strikes with thunder
The gallant ways of the maverick, fills the heart with wonder.
Squandering through the sleet; the pride immense,
With his head held high, the evident arrogance.
Bringing back with him, the evergreen flames,
The fire of life: the power he tames.
His haughty eyes, alive in the Godly radiance,
Say there is no such thing as a game of chance.
Gathering the darkness, the source he burns,
The secret of creation, the secret he learns.
Breaking hell asunder with his weapon of love,
The defeated hallucinations; and the flying dove.
The fragrance of victory on the insurmountable peak,The guiding beacon, once again, the maverick.
THE KNIGHTS
The pungent fluid coursing through the veins,
The headless horsemen holding on to the reins.
A nauseating scenery and the spreading chill
Supernatural powers buried under the hill.
Ancient knights jousting in the cold
Bringing back to life, yarns of the old.
The crowd egging them on: the dust rising
Readying for battle; their armour shining.
Waiting for the sun to rise, the challenging dawn
Both are sure of their might, one will be proven wrong.
Skill and speed, and tactics grand,
Facing the enemy; the erstwhile friend.
The elegant steeds rearing, the thundering hooves,
Their sinewy coats and the evasive moves.
Aristocratic honour; a battle unto death,
Warring with the foe till the last bit of breath.
The dying gasp; the victorious cheer,
The smile of the winner; the fallen’s blood stained gear.
The quiet evening in the neanderthal land,
.
THE CALL OF DUTY
I make the rounds with the stethoscope in hand,
Gruesome hurts and broken hearts I try to mend.
Hope shinning through the ache in their eyes,
The suffering of the patients; the attendants’ sighs.
Listless on their beds, on the brink of death some lie
My best efforts may add to nothing: they may die.
A bullet in the chest or a wound by a knife,
I will tend to the victims of the strife
The lady in labour, her screams of pain echo in the hall,
But when the child first cries, she smiles and forgets it all.
Innocent children in the viscious grip of the crab,
They are never to see their prime: their faces so drab.
I am a wounded healer; always on the go,
The call of duty- forty eight hours at a row.
Gruesome hurts and broken hearts I try to mend.
Hope shinning through the ache in their eyes,
The suffering of the patients; the attendants’ sighs.
Listless on their beds, on the brink of death some lie
My best efforts may add to nothing: they may die.
A bullet in the chest or a wound by a knife,
I will tend to the victims of the strife
The lady in labour, her screams of pain echo in the hall,
But when the child first cries, she smiles and forgets it all.
Innocent children in the viscious grip of the crab,
They are never to see their prime: their faces so drab.
I am a wounded healer; always on the go,
The call of duty- forty eight hours at a row.
ANTARCTICA
I want to go to Antarctica;
And lie down there on the ice
Naked.
Lazing, idling, sleeping, dying.
Feeling the ice make me go cold
Cold as death
The biting air freezing my blood
And freezing my thoughts too.
Cleansed. Mummified.
A restful sleep, a frozen breath
Under a mound of ice.
THE MORNING
Meadows green and the rivers fair,
Meandering through the vale without any care.
The silver trees and the golden leaves,
Sparkling webs doth the sun weaves.
Birds singing ere the crack of dawn,
Singing to the sun, the morning’s song.
The voices of trees doth the light welcome,
Naught hath been said till the rays doth come.
The night’s dew clinging to the grass.
Little drops of stars to see, for those who pass.
The boughs laden with fruits of love,
Exotic colours, myriad, are in to them wove.
The happy day dawning and handing out a smile,
Stand under the skies here; ponder awhile.
Meandering through the vale without any care.
The silver trees and the golden leaves,
Sparkling webs doth the sun weaves.
Birds singing ere the crack of dawn,
Singing to the sun, the morning’s song.
The voices of trees doth the light welcome,
Naught hath been said till the rays doth come.
The night’s dew clinging to the grass.
Little drops of stars to see, for those who pass.
The boughs laden with fruits of love,
Exotic colours, myriad, are in to them wove.
The happy day dawning and handing out a smile,
Stand under the skies here; ponder awhile.
DREAM
(1)
Little girl, I have a small dream for you.
A shade of happiness, and filled with smiles too.
Wings sprouting from you and me,
We are what we always wanted to be.
Flying amongst the clouds; soaring so high,
The beaming moon, the moonlight, is so nigh.
Caress this dream, and kiss it too:
A voice in me is saying-
“Someday it will be true”.
(2)
I fancied the flight and believed in it,
So utterly not unbelievable, every little bit.
Sitting in the clouds, taking in the sight,
Idling, speechless, as the day turns to night.
The dream has come true, I suddenly realise,
As I stare at you, and drown,
In those deep brown eyes.
Little girl, I have a small dream for you.
A shade of happiness, and filled with smiles too.
Wings sprouting from you and me,
We are what we always wanted to be.
Flying amongst the clouds; soaring so high,
The beaming moon, the moonlight, is so nigh.
Caress this dream, and kiss it too:
A voice in me is saying-
“Someday it will be true”.
(2)
I fancied the flight and believed in it,
So utterly not unbelievable, every little bit.
Sitting in the clouds, taking in the sight,
Idling, speechless, as the day turns to night.
The dream has come true, I suddenly realise,
As I stare at you, and drown,
In those deep brown eyes.
FEAR
Down the dark alley; he was on the run
Scared of the murderer; afraid of the one.
The marauder mutated in to a salivating dog,
A nerve wrecking sight in the lifting fog.
The animal disappeared: he abruptly turned.
Heavy breaths, his lungs they burned.
In the dead of the night, a lonely dame
He could not fathom the meaning of the game.
Raven black hair and a faceless face,
Mounting terror, his heart began to pace.
He tossed and turned, and woke up with a start,Drenched in sweat.
The fear- an inherent part.
Scared of the murderer; afraid of the one.
The marauder mutated in to a salivating dog,
A nerve wrecking sight in the lifting fog.
The animal disappeared: he abruptly turned.
Heavy breaths, his lungs they burned.
In the dead of the night, a lonely dame
He could not fathom the meaning of the game.
Raven black hair and a faceless face,
Mounting terror, his heart began to pace.
He tossed and turned, and woke up with a start,Drenched in sweat.
The fear- an inherent part.
SILENCE
Obstreperous masses and nebulous lore,
Emptiness in the essence, in the core.
The language so common, yet so unknown
Projected thoughts out of it borne.
The electric quiet singing out notes
Heartfelt emotions, impeccable quotes.
Speaking out with the eyes: the happy innocence,
The beautiful words of the golden silence.
Emptiness in the essence, in the core.
The language so common, yet so unknown
Projected thoughts out of it borne.
The electric quiet singing out notes
Heartfelt emotions, impeccable quotes.
Speaking out with the eyes: the happy innocence,
The beautiful words of the golden silence.
ALIEN NATION
Isolation from the surrounding business
Departure from the pagan madness.
Compromise, to remain apparently alone,
Confounded, staying away from the zone.
Uncharted territories, unknown realms,
Roam about, feel at home.
A place unseen; an unfamiliar song,
But the sense of deja vu is strong.
No repentance at the choice of station,Animation: the alienation.
TAKE ME AWAY
I want to sleep like this forever,
Never want to get out of bed.
I want lie like this forever,
Till another comes and gets me red.
Another high. Make me fly.
Take me away.
Never want to get out of bed.
I want lie like this forever,
Till another comes and gets me red.
Another high. Make me fly.
Take me away.
THE SAILOR
Setting out on a journey, doomed to win,
Destined to reach where man has never been.
Vaunting his courage; flaunting his sway,
The chosen, sailing along the volatile way.
Nebulous replicas and immaculate lore,
The attire of honesty the sailor wore.
The turbulent waves and the fading light,
Instilled within the strength to fight.
The plotting glances and the baseless themes,
Fresh in his mind were the venal schemes.
The stage had been set, he had fallen in.
The outcome was trivial; he was doomed to win.
Destined to reach where man has never been.
Vaunting his courage; flaunting his sway,
The chosen, sailing along the volatile way.
Nebulous replicas and immaculate lore,
The attire of honesty the sailor wore.
The turbulent waves and the fading light,
Instilled within the strength to fight.
The plotting glances and the baseless themes,
Fresh in his mind were the venal schemes.
The stage had been set, he had fallen in.
The outcome was trivial; he was doomed to win.
THE NEW WORLD
Making a beginning at the very end
There is nothing left standing to defend.
All lay vanquished; dead or killed.
The emptiness around could not be filled.
The new moon rises up on the scene,
The new moonlight is virgin and clean.
New beings spring up- they do live,
For the slaughtered- they do grieve.
The new waters fill up the seas
The new leaves, growing on old trees.
The new sun chasing away the cold
The new stars taking the place of the old.
The new sky up there; bright and blue,
Makes it clear, no need for a clue.
A fresh start for the brand new world,
How it fares, remains to be told.
There is nothing left standing to defend.
All lay vanquished; dead or killed.
The emptiness around could not be filled.
The new moon rises up on the scene,
The new moonlight is virgin and clean.
New beings spring up- they do live,
For the slaughtered- they do grieve.
The new waters fill up the seas
The new leaves, growing on old trees.
The new sun chasing away the cold
The new stars taking the place of the old.
The new sky up there; bright and blue,
Makes it clear, no need for a clue.
A fresh start for the brand new world,
How it fares, remains to be told.
GHOSTS FROM THE PAST
The sun is bright and high,
Look at the clouds floating by.
A mist seeps in to his thoughts.
Bleed- the war has been fought:
The stories he got to tell
Mysteries- he got them on sale.
Shadows exist in the light,
Destruction- he does not want to fight.
Blood raining from the skies,
Tears- he can hear their cries.
Screaming, shouting in his head
They still live, though they are dead.
Vengeance trying to make its way
Out of his mind and in to the day.
Retribution- a time to kill the sin,
They speak out loud all he feels within.
A cold sweat wets his hand
Soul less- he will give a stand.
Ghosts from he past are haunting him
A ghost breaking up his dream.
Ghosts from the past do not let go
They are dead, the can not die anymore.
And there is no tomorrow,
Just the remembrance of yesterday, and its sorrow.
Look at the clouds floating by.
A mist seeps in to his thoughts.
Bleed- the war has been fought:
The stories he got to tell
Mysteries- he got them on sale.
Shadows exist in the light,
Destruction- he does not want to fight.
Blood raining from the skies,
Tears- he can hear their cries.
Screaming, shouting in his head
They still live, though they are dead.
Vengeance trying to make its way
Out of his mind and in to the day.
Retribution- a time to kill the sin,
They speak out loud all he feels within.
A cold sweat wets his hand
Soul less- he will give a stand.
Ghosts from he past are haunting him
A ghost breaking up his dream.
Ghosts from the past do not let go
They are dead, the can not die anymore.
And there is no tomorrow,
Just the remembrance of yesterday, and its sorrow.
THE CLASS
Feeling sleepy here in the class,
Wondering to myself how an hour will pass.
Can not understand what Sir does teach
Thinking of the time when my room I will reach.
This is the class of the throat, nose, and ear,
But the constant drone i can not seem to bear.
Penicillin, erythomycin- now tell me what are they?
Someone please tell me! Some one please say.
“Rhinitis”: a word I just have heard.
Though I had been to the ward.
Lectures are a bore, i can not but say.
We will escape from this torture some sunny day.
There is still half an hour to go
And i am feeling so down and low.
My gut is calling out in its desire:
My hunger is burning like a forest fire!
Can not sit straight and nicely listen,
Though I know it is nothing decent.
He is talking about some electrodes and current;
The uses of which, I know I can not warrant
“Cryosurgery” is a new word is a new word to my mind.
What is it, I will have to look up and find.
Something to do with ice, he tells
But all I can hear are my wedding bells.
The girls are filling their copies with notes
Please tell me what they have wrote.
I can hear him talking about some “allergy” thing.
This word, to my ears, has a familiar ring.
The boy near me is in his dreams-
Is he dreaming of peaches and cream?
I will have to ask him when he wakes.
I will have to know, whatever it takes.
Another new word, some “dirty crust”,
If this continues, my head will burst.
I sure will be glad when this will be over:
Getting out of here, I will scamper for cover.
The greatest hope, my dear friend,
Is that this class will come to an end.
But we can not help following this stupid trend,
If, on our feet, we are to stand!
Wondering to myself how an hour will pass.
Can not understand what Sir does teach
Thinking of the time when my room I will reach.
This is the class of the throat, nose, and ear,
But the constant drone i can not seem to bear.
Penicillin, erythomycin- now tell me what are they?
Someone please tell me! Some one please say.
“Rhinitis”: a word I just have heard.
Though I had been to the ward.
Lectures are a bore, i can not but say.
We will escape from this torture some sunny day.
There is still half an hour to go
And i am feeling so down and low.
My gut is calling out in its desire:
My hunger is burning like a forest fire!
Can not sit straight and nicely listen,
Though I know it is nothing decent.
He is talking about some electrodes and current;
The uses of which, I know I can not warrant
“Cryosurgery” is a new word is a new word to my mind.
What is it, I will have to look up and find.
Something to do with ice, he tells
But all I can hear are my wedding bells.
The girls are filling their copies with notes
Please tell me what they have wrote.
I can hear him talking about some “allergy” thing.
This word, to my ears, has a familiar ring.
The boy near me is in his dreams-
Is he dreaming of peaches and cream?
I will have to ask him when he wakes.
I will have to know, whatever it takes.
Another new word, some “dirty crust”,
If this continues, my head will burst.
I sure will be glad when this will be over:
Getting out of here, I will scamper for cover.
The greatest hope, my dear friend,
Is that this class will come to an end.
But we can not help following this stupid trend,
If, on our feet, we are to stand!
QUESTIONS
What is religion and what is caste?
If amongst people there is no trust.
Why so much struggle and so much pain?
How peace and quiet can we gain?
What is rich and what is poor?
If we make time to think, and want to be sure.
Why so much envy and so much greed?
Aren’t we all humans, all one creed?
What is sorrow and what is joy?
If life is not just a simple toy,
Why so many battles and so much death?
When will we believe in love, and keep the faith?
Think about it, remember it is true,
Man, when he is done and through,
From whence he sprung, there go he must,Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
If amongst people there is no trust.
Why so much struggle and so much pain?
How peace and quiet can we gain?
What is rich and what is poor?
If we make time to think, and want to be sure.
Why so much envy and so much greed?
Aren’t we all humans, all one creed?
What is sorrow and what is joy?
If life is not just a simple toy,
Why so many battles and so much death?
When will we believe in love, and keep the faith?
Think about it, remember it is true,
Man, when he is done and through,
From whence he sprung, there go he must,Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
ODE TO AN ANGEL
A little look, just a small glance
And the heart, crazy, starts to dance.
One could not believe what one had seen
Back from Paradise, for a moment, one had been.
Those sure were eyes of a dove.
Wild, twinkling, and so full of love.
The walk filled with poise and grace-
‘Tis no lie- makes the emotions scarce.
The silky locks, doth the shoulders kiss,
When one is away, the smiles one miss.
One’s mind is quiet, but the heart is sure
That the soul within in clean and pure.
One’s heart rules till the end,
An angel on earth, God hath sent.
And the heart, crazy, starts to dance.
One could not believe what one had seen
Back from Paradise, for a moment, one had been.
Those sure were eyes of a dove.
Wild, twinkling, and so full of love.
The walk filled with poise and grace-
‘Tis no lie- makes the emotions scarce.
The silky locks, doth the shoulders kiss,
When one is away, the smiles one miss.
One’s mind is quiet, but the heart is sure
That the soul within in clean and pure.
One’s heart rules till the end,
An angel on earth, God hath sent.
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