To The Devil

The horse had been saddled up for the race,
The rider took on the leash full of grace,
Blended with the leather,
And heathen the long lost feathers,

Element of surprise, Look into the eyes, and picture,
There is an image built before the journey, of that creature,
For the fear and the hollow desperation to overcome was clear,
Danger, and the risks, shadowing the cause, empowered his fear,

Frisking the way out of the valleys and the narrow drains,
The conceptual devised it to happen as realistically as the cloud to the rains,
Mythically marching and leaping for the taste of the flavors that had been beckoning,
It was all in his and bound to soul and now was the time for a solid reckoning,

At this footsteps, the disposal of the attack he had to offer,
It all started in a rage and everything can out in the open in a blur,
Out of the cave standing tall, he hit the bottom, to kiss the ground,
Free and to the skies, the war was won, stood tall amongst all in that playground.

Marching Orders

Marching ants, vibrant sunflowers, flowing waves of birds,
everything was not so complex as a flock of herds,
life was never that easy as it is hasty,
the flow of events turned out to be nasty.

Spilled coffee on the teak,
life was flowing at its maximum peak,
movement of every single entity around me,
could feel the flow of every drop of blood gushing through thee.

Burst car tyres, bent rim, shattered glasses,
life flashed in front of me in few moments,
mind has lost its synchronisation with the brain,
things have slowly started flowing down the drain.

Teardrops, like the perennial raindrops was a sight,
life was turning , running like a turbulent flight,
dropped the coffee mug, shattered , scattered,
kept everything, every second of the spent life aside.

Marched forward away from the abnormalities of those formalities,
far away in those jungles high above without any tragedies,
the smile was back in those peaceful surroundings,
missing was NOW the hustle bustle tangled boundings.

End was near, not yet close but not so far either,
torn clothes were better than the ripped soul I had,
puzzle was complete so was the destiny's marching orders,
it could have been easy if those sane moments could've been pondered.

"Mortals block their emotions in such a way as,
Birds flock their feathers in a motion."
--Nishant (19/01/11)