Push the Tempo

Push the Tempo

Falling from the heights I’ve reached,

I’ll push the ground deep beneath me,

To reach the end more till the end,

To touch the ground the way I want to feel,

This is not the end of line,

It has just begun to uncover the shine

The fine brine of that wine,

Which we always dreamt of tasting till we last,

Resting beneath my wheels,

Are my marks which I left on the road,

The road that led to the jungle.

Where I could find all that I lost in a bundle.

Don’t crowd your thoughts on my shadow,

It’s too weak, weak, enough for me to hold on,

I see the sky leaning on those trees,

And those seem like they are free.

Definitive Destiny

Definitive Destiny

Roamed, rode the road before, with the same air around,

Grouped with the same feeling but the journey this time was straight and found,

Fiery and feisty was the path that led to the shine,

I was on the path until I saw a shrine.

Met a man, without a name, with his head covered with snow,

I kept on wondering as to why he was carrying a glow.

Lived in the shrine around that holy road,

So far away from the rest that along many miles no one could be heard.

Took my time and stayed at the shrine for the night,

Unknown to what was there under his mighty plight,

Brought on to the table, the book, along with his pipe,

Kept a piece of bread, and sat along with his dignity and pride.

Picture this, old rusted, dusty, worned off,

Book was heavy but it carried a strange light.

Turned the page and found out was carrying my name,

With every single page carried my glory and fame,

Stored and lost in those pages, wandered,

Who was this old man, and what is this shrine I started to wonder.

Moved on to every page and found out the turn of events,

Till I reach the page which told about the old man , his shrine and waited for a further advent,

The pages were blank, fresh , waiting to be written,

Confused and bound, I must be mistaken.

The old man stood up, gave me keys and said,

‘I m the One, who doesn’t belong here,

I write the rules, those which I never share’.

For it was time to march forward,

Because he had to write what I was supposed to do and moved on.

Returned back on the same old road to find a sign,

“He was never here”

Carrying a smile, Roamed, rode the road before, with the same air around,

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)