#This is pure blank verse. I could not create any rhyme for this poem.
Dreaming empty he looked,
Deep into the completeness of life
Shivering from the tears held back,
His smile echoed in the ambience of life
Cold he felt, broken his thoughts were
And yet his words reached the very corners of life
Always singing was he in a merry tune,
And yet he felt not the songs sung by the lord of life.
In the springs of Eden, he often felt chill
When it was merry for all who lived in the garden of life.
In the winters, he loved the canopies of fir,
In summers he loved the heat,
In the springs of blossoms, he often sang,
A tune blessed by thee.
And yet he knew not why it turned
He seldom felt glee in that enclosure of life.
Urges were scary and so were calls,
He longed the blessing of the sacred songs.
He longed for long for glee alone,
And something in him told him very often
The best to be done is to clear from the annals of life.
He steered and he fought,
He cleared his mind from ideas
But ideas like pests often stay
They asked him often to steer clear of life.
And one fine day when he felt an icy prickle
His eyes searched for the means of life
And as he walked down the garden of others
He spotted by the lake, Adam's ancient fruit of life.
The taste so sweet, the warmth so much
His eyes shut in the ecstasy of life
And as the wind flew, he fell in the river
The river that stood by the garden of life.
He tried hard when the wetness he felt
He tried hard to climb back to space
His eyes dry of the tears that rolled
He knew not why he wanted to cling to that little grass of life.
He was washed and no one cared
For no one dared to look
And so no one sings anymore of him
That was his little tale in this play of life.
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| image from the daily express news article |
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