Lights of Hope…

Shimmering streaks across the skies
Light a glimmer in my heart
Sultry days of dreary dreams
Are now stories of the past…

Millions of fiery glitters
Shine around like glowworms
Lighting my path to nirvana
A life free from baseless terms…

The lamp of a blessed tomorrow
Flicker with fervor in every room
A smile emanating from every lip
Reveal joys of a harmonious home…

Evening chants usher the setting sun
As folded hands sing in unison…
Welcoming lady luck in earnest.
Praying for a bit of the plush condition.

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A Walk

Remember our walk during moonlit days,
By the side of the whispering river,
It’s crystal light on your face,
As our fingers did entwine and quiver.

Absorbed in your dreamy gaze,
I’d uttered words like a toddler,
Brushing past the grassy maze,
Into the white mist did we wander.

Timeless moments of sweet chatter,
Furthered the meet of our minds,
Leading to an idealistic banter,
Of politics and inane guidelines.

Remember how under the starlit skies,
We sauntered like the passive wanderer,
Following the trail of the fireflies,
Humming tunes with theatrical fervour.

Lost in the world of our dreams,
We heard none but our hearts beat,
Your warm caress was my realm
Our eyes locked in an amorous meet.

The Brave Warrior

Amidst fiery battlegrounds,
Where wolves roam free,
She stood brave and strong,
Facing squalls of envy.

Fearless, she drew her sword,
Unnerved by deathly winds,
She charges ahead with vigour
Swiftly within an eye’s blink.

‘Twas a battle of filthy lust,
She fought with hallowed silence,
Wearing armours of virtue and trust
To end this smutty pestilence.

With fair grace did she lodge,
The pennant of pure victory
Though death she couldn’t dodge
But immortalised in human history.

A True Tale

Did you hear the cacophony,
Of men burly ‘n’ wearing tights,
Who swore by common ancestry,
In mature yet mindless fights?

Over sour ale did they chatter,
Questioning the fancy regime,
That gave not a full platter,
But doses of a hollow dream.

Their fists they banged with might,
While the tapers flickered with fear,
To an uprising that was alight,
For castigating the pitiless royal tier.

With pitchforks, axe and spade,
The bastion they stormed in a flurry,
With a war cry of profound hate,
As the horizon blazed with fury.

“Execute ‘em all”, they roared,
Dashing the china to smithereens
Stagecoaches and satin all burned,
Ending the loathsome regal reigns.

Man of Thirty

Sharp and graciously refined

Walking with steps speedy,

Symbol of elegance well defined

He is a man of thirty.

 

Sporting a bonny coiffeur

And a suit so royally navy,

Shoes shining like silver

He is a man of thirty.

 

Apple of his friends’ eye,

Candy of ladies pretty

Always with spirits high

He is a man of thirty.

 

Echoing a boyish charm

His laugh breaks all monotony

A personality so deeply warm

He is a man of thirty.

 

Carefree yet so matured,

Values and emotions saintly,

Making you feel assured.

He is a man of thirty.

Cast Away

Time has stood still today,

Frozen with thy words, mocking,

Crude ‘n’ coarse than dried hay,

Spewing deep hate so shocking.

 

Etched hastily on this pasty note,

“I dost not any love for you”,

‘Twas a verdict you wrote

My life into shambles it threw.

 

Was I a tawdry plaything?

An article of fleeting pleasures,

Cast into the alleys stinking

An object worthy for beggars.

 

Sweet words of fancy passions

Thy promises of endless ties,

Were they mere pretentions,

Thee uttered in our love nights?

 

In faith my soul I pledged,

Surrendered to your free will,

Your wish with grace I obeyed,

Yet to befall this ordeal.

 

For thee I shall though wait

Through the eternal realm of time,

Destiny cannot but join our fate,

‘Cause the heavens know you’re mine.

Argument

A series of mindless words

Or a string of illogical logic,

Creating a wrangle so garish,

And a situation so tragic!

 

It’s a nonsensical verbal combat,

Or a mind game, as they say,

Of twisted thoughts and ideas

Leading to a sense of disarray!

 

Opinions shared by one and all

Sweared in the name of democracy,

Creating mayhem – sane and intelligent though!

Dabbling in anger’s purple fancy.

 

Vulgar and convincing,

Tis a confession of highbrow impotence

Leaving nothing but an empty trail

A pitiful sight, a mere pittance.