The fears that talked us to weep
The tears that lulled us to sleep
The pain-scorched face
Hidden deep in the castle of the heart
Death-that dark rebel
With sulphur-tinted countenance
In short-sleeved dresses
Thought-that taut tout of the mind
Which sports,sprouts,spouts and spurts out the unwholesome some of the whole!
We write the tale of life
Beginning from the tail,
Trifles become drunk rifles
Shooting down proud stars!
My pen writes to a kin of an alien ken;
Starve the soul till it’s full
Feed the body till it’s sick with health
Life’s only mean when it’s a means to death
But life’s never mean when it’s only the mean of deaths
As love fails not for want of heart
But for want of brains
Even so does life fail not for want of breath
But for want of breadth
Virgil keeps vigil on the laps of a mother-virgin
For so life has become-an antithesis of theses!
But who can maim the arms of dark aims?
Who can melt this frozen pain
With heat from an alien flame?
Who can boldly say
“Though I sink,I dare not stink!”