Long Subdued

Rusty, windy, fallen out of line,

it had been a very long time,

recollecting back from scarp ,

trying to get everything back in my grasp.

Wondering, thinking , passion restored or just a faint outburst,

is it those one of those eye blinding moments,

or am I really craving again for the thirst,

pitching every word just in line to bind those shimmery ornaments.

Cradled by the on goings in the life,

was unfazed by the ornaments i had left to be woven,

frozen , still, yet so dynamic life had strived,

that i had left the doors for sorrow open.

Had to come out of the cobwebs,

build slowly and gradually steps for the life I had lead ,

find an entry for the exit i had longed for,

could see the light at the end of the tunnel and I fled.

Here I am back again, same old story,

yet with a different and composed version of present,

because the past led to many paths and rest was history,

tarnished and shining everything around was pleasant

Warmth

moonlight walk, slow steps , the sands falling beneath your feet,
but the thought in your mind keep on going steep,
life had taken a turn , widened,
it worked like a machine lost its pulleys and was unstrapped,

only light left at the time was the moon,
you wish you could end this all so soon,
parked the wheels outside the cage,
still you couldnt let go of that deep embedded rage,

Never so desperate in life for certain answers,
wish could unravel the mirror beneath the sheet of sand,
no energy left for to blow the sand,
come take a walk with me , hold my hand

Blew the wind uncovered from the ever so hardened dust,
the only i was searching for with that charming lust,
wish could lay in those palms, the lap and stare at the moon,
you showed me life, gave me reason, to come out of that cocoon.

The Movement.

The fanatic rode the snake in his blue bus,

so did the cobain doped himself so early,

there was no voodoo child left anymore,

because they were involuntarily called by him.

They marched with the freedom of independence,

rode on to any vehicle they could get,

passed on their thoughts to anyone they reached,

left a mark on anyone who called them and were preached,

stop calling names, those hollow gloomy faces,

instead realise the deep tranquility of reality,and reach for the inner-visions of the sorroundings,

The day when the souls preach the notions and thoughts,

that day his all battles are fought.

with all the leather and strings they fought amongst the mortals,

the words they threw and raged those sleeping machines,

drunk and dressed they brought the stage to a fire,

to rise up against all those who tried to bring down THE movement......

6th Harmony

Push the boxes inside that maze,

and bring to surface the waves of the haze

Freedom of the air, the wings of the butterfly,

they clasp the wisdom flying high in the sky,

With dignity and glory I let my pride fly high,

along the sea shores and the pebbles lie my cries.

for the tranquility they impart, slowly in the air,

they won't last long, as they are hard.

reaching through that gold lit cave,

I see that rusted worned off shadow,

The shadow i wished would follow me for the rest of my life,

because that is what I searched in those long lost files.

Chapter 8

Re Birth

A lot of time has passed, things have moved on,

My relapse has ended, and now I am heading to a start on my own,

Dewy leaves and fresh faces feel like I am back,

I was long that now I have to come out of my knap sack.

It took me long, a very long time to get back to were I was before,

I couldn’t imagine myself standing alone on the lonely sea shore,

Now that the smile I left is back to fill that cleft,

The emotions have gone that I had and I never slept.

He had plans for me, that involved the trip which condemned for long,

Still I keep a good attitude and sing that song,

My words still pour those left over feelings,

That won’t ever go beyond the ceiling.

The sweet journey had all the shares of fun and sorrows,

I’ll look at your face forever and for today and tomorrow,

I could help you the way you wanted,

All I can say is that it was the time we were granted.

“Never give a heart to the person whom you love,

Love the person who can give you his/her heart”

Chapter 3

Realization

Bring down the mountain of THE unrealistic dream

The sooner you realize the lesser you scream

Pipeline the burning enigmatic rage within you

Because you are left with nothing except those melting hours.

Past time routines won’t save you from the burdened activities

You have to find loopholes within those transparent fragilities.

Rise up and bring down the mole hill till you reach the end

And try to find the answers before you stop calling him a friend.

Barking dogs and wandering flees will count the freedom

And on that day you will mark an end to your ‘Boredom’.

Last verse, last lines and the beginning of the end

You try to disfigure the passion of those binding chimes.

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)