Saturday, October 16, 2010


Restlessness sits awkwardly interrogating confidence in my own ignorance
of lives not lived and tales yet unexplored
Reason seeks its own part, mitigated always by human desires

what is this emptiness of, a void of emotions perhaps
of selfishness perhaps not reaching out to dark, disorder of humanity
of 'bitter fruits' calling out for a taste

Everyday I tame this restlessness with paens for the beauty
but it steals through the dark of my eyes,
coaxing, cajoling , persuading me in its nightmare,
to taste the one which lay as the shadows of beauty

Imagining I perhaps, these were passing dark clouds,
 whose tears would reveal me bliss, but ignorance it was,
 to believe of frailty, one whose marks stamped everydayness.

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