Dreams

The warm whiskey trickling down the throat,
The ash from the fireplace, a rhythmic note,
The high of the spirit, the spirits are low,
The pale face glows against the outside snow.

The hourglass spinning lazily on the aged table,
Each drop a grim reminder of the nostalgic fable,
A time to treasure, a time magically lost,
Life or time?...A lifetime has its cost...

The fading pictures hanging on the shabby walls,
From their false smiles, a teary shadow crawls,
Tears of happiness, the shadow of stark regret,
Reflecting sadly on the vision that has set.

The rusty trophies in the forsaken showcase,
A petty symbol, once a sign of proud grace,
The pride's a relic, a pride of dark sorrow,
Staring in contempt at the unthought morrow..

The fire goes out, the eyes hazy...dim,
The story of life now just a swan hymn,
Unmindful of the wistful passing years,
Sleeping through a gaze of hollow spheres.

Escape

The consuming bells have begun to ring,
The knell song you like to sing,
Your frosty knives snipping my wings,
I shan't fly this spring...

The ticking hourglass is a toxic drone,
The sadistic pity you like to loan,
Your steely heart usurping my throne,
I shan't rule this frozen stone...

The burning ash has begun to rise,
The suicidal fire you like to devise,
Your teary gaze sucking my eyes,
I shan't see summer's sunrise...

The mortifying face is a murderous road,
The dignified ego you like to explode,
Your insolent shadow eclipsing my abode,
I shan't stay at my wintry ode...

The rains have begun, the words are out,
I've ended this happiness drought,
The grounds are bare, new seeds to sprout,
I've ended this aching bout...

Nightmare

The perplexed mind wakes up to life,
Spinning in a shower of incessant strife,
The world is black, the visions- bright,
The delirious brain cowers in fright.

The eyes twitch just a trifle,
Incoherent words audibly stifled,
The breathing's fast...in spurts,
Saliva trickles out in squirts.

The images swinging past in a hurried cycle,
Moving around in spiral circles,
Images of truth mingled with lies,
Brightening the dark mental skies.

The hands shiver, the hairs stand tall,
A slight contraction in the abdominal wall,
The legs are drawn towards the chest,
The body slouches in quiet protest.

The mind becomes active, becomes wild,
The interior's boiling, the exterior mild,
The frenzied heart skips a beat,
Is it succumbing to the heat?

The mouth's dry as a desert,
The heavy breathing's now inert,
The face becomes pale, turns blue,
Beads of sweat like the morning dew..

The images merge, a distorted reel,
The fear's real, the movie surreal,
Demonic emotions fueling the twister,
As Life gives way to guilty blisters.

The journey ends, so do his thoughts,
The visions consume into a tiny, dark spot,
The images have fulfilled their will,
Everything is calm now, it's simply tranquil...

The little kid

It rains hard, the streets flood,
The tall trees fall with a thud,
The clouds darken, the weather's cold,
I see that kid who's eight years old...

Splashing hard in the rain-induced rivers,
He realizes it's chilly, he shivers,
Yet, he's naive, he's an innocent,
Having fun is his only intent...

He splashes hard, his face becomes muddy,
His poor mother beckons him to study,
Yet, he plays with drenched pebbles and soggy sand,
His thoughts are spontaneous, his ideas unplanned...

He stops suddenly, gives his face a soft slap,
He rushes home with a series of child-like claps,
He returns moments later, His face full of glee,
Paper Boats!!...he releases them in the muddy seas...

He squeals with laughter, No one's happier, You'd reckon,
The boats' voyages last for but a trivial second,
The simple joy in the act - worth a lifetime,
Still lost in laughter, he breaks into a touching rhyme...

He picks up a stick now and beats the eddy water,
He loses his footing a bit, he falters,
He gets up again and beats the lifeless current again,
The water and kid fighting to enforce their reign...

It's a pleasant sight, brings a smile on my lips,
His uncanny acts bring forth a fleet of nostalgia ships,
Those golden days of juvenility, there was no time to care,
Those times of eternal joy, How I wish I was back there...

Allowance To Plead

The rains are here, wetting the parched streets,
Heated furnaces giving way to rhythmic beats,
Blinding sunshine replaced by vast black sheets,
A pang of regret, a reminder of my defeats...

A cheerful juvenile I was, no care for judgments,
Monkeying with ephemeral toys, no time for sentiments,
The world was my playground, I was the king,
If only I'd learnt to strum the benignant string...

An arrogant stripling I was, no sense of wrong-right,
Feeding on pampered wealth, soaring like a kite,
Master of vanity, condescending God of upset beings,
Obscuring myself in the abysmal abyss I was digging...

A manager in my late twenties, Was I remotely deserving?
Trampling on naive souls, A selfish brain I was serving,
Scavenging on their failures, my inflated ego shone,
Losing the human religion, Losing my childish throne...

Three marriages, three divorces...nothing did I learn,
In my raging egoistic fire, I let this also burn,
The world was stupid, foolish, I shimmered in this unreality,
The farceness of my belief, If only I'd known the fatality...

A lonely cottage, a lonely old age,
A lonely strife, a lonely life,
Demeaning dreams, Demeaning esteem,
No will to live, No life to will...

An accident, a paralysis...a living stone,
Dumb words, wooden eyes, silent moans,
A mind waking from slumber, a body dead,
Dying in pain, Living in dread...

The world's green outside and so is my mind,
A Wish to relive, A wish to rewind,
Requesting God for one last speech before my heart bleeds,
A last chance to apologize...For mercy, I want to plead...

Déjà vu

He walks slowly along the sea shore,
His face is pale...eyes sore,
He needs a balm, pains galore,
He has been here before...

The gentle waves play with his cold feet,
The chirping birds singing...divine treat,
The palm trees bloom...happiness soars,
He has been here before...

A tall man sprints past him,
Chanting a very familiar hymn,
It's a song he cannot ignore,
He has been here before...

He continues with his wobbly gait,
But he feels a heavy, inner weight,
His hidden intuition comes to fore,
He has been here before...

The voice asks him to pause,
He doesn't know the cause,
He turns around, the man is unseen,
To meet him, why is he so keen?

He becomes restless, his hands shiver,
His silent lips start to quiver,
A sudden realization...He had seen this before,
But they were to meet..that was his chore.

He walks faster, then breaks into a run,
He ran for miles, there was no one,
Tired and exhausted, he evoked his dead mother,
And sitting beside him was his long-lost brother...

The walls are falling

Standing atop the strong wall, he silently stared,
Watching the restless weak...no longer scared,
He felt the thinning strength of his strong mind,
Quietly reflecting on his injustice to mankind.

An invincible king he was, soon to be in a heinous grave,
A tyrant in the past, now...a would be prostrate slave,
The winds were his, they obeyed him...the master,
The winds have changed...fading away...faster, faster...

The walls beneath him have become weak,
Their chances of survival are bleak,
Brutal, misery tales are all they speak,
Salvation from drudgery is what they seek.

The king's reign is coming to an end,
He wants to be reborn...to restore...mend,
His muted apologies, he wants to send,
All his blunders, faults...he wants to tend.

No company he has, no one hears him,
The hitherto daylight has become dim,
His heartbeat's the only happy sound,
Six feet tall...six feet of ground...

The distant, agitated roars come nearer,
Visions of an impending death are clearer,
The finale of an era...a stark age,
The birds freed from a hideous cage.

He sees the faces...feels his warm blood,
He sees the hate...feels the watery flood,
He sees the joy...feels the tangy guilt,
The walls crumble...they blissfully wilt..