The Blessing of Twilight


The faint light in the sky seems to disappear
As darkness overlies,
The birds fly towards their secure homes
And the North Star is prepared to rise.

I sit here in a surreal state,
Reflecting on the parity between my life and the picturesque moment.
As the sun goes down
The smile on my face fades away and the tears become prominent.

But then I hear a thousand sounds
All around me.
Nature is alive
And my heart gets filled with the sweet melody,

I see happiness everywhere
I realize, my sadness was not right
And now I know, this is not the end the light hasn’t died,
As this is a blessing from God above, the blessing of twilight.

The Ostentatious Nothingness

I had been surrounded by so many people till just a few hours ago
And now there’s no one around,
There was till now so much pomp and show
But now the night has sealed it’s lips and has decided not to make any sound.

For days I had been made with care
With million skilled hands caressing my side,
I was adorned in beautiful décor
As many eyes had glanced at me with commendation
And I felt elated with pride.

But now the idol has been immersed
And my people have disappeared.
The glory had been just a dream
And the darkness of solitude is now my fate.

And in the hour of darkness as the light flickers out,
And I hear my death bell toll
I stand here lifeless, all alone
Like a body without its soul.

Life.........

It began with the formation of the outer shell,
The gift was now in the hands of men
Through the moments of tedious deterioration and upliftment
Torn between Satanic and Angelic deeds
It often got fragmented.
But it revived again and carried on until one day
The tangible died in its predestined grave and the intangible flittered away.

THE PANGS OF AN ARTIST

Thoughts speeding by within the convoluted organ
None waiting to be seized,
Creates an obscurity
And hence cannot be perceived.

Emotions flow constantly,
Diffused feelings haunt the core,
Creating a confusion
And bewildering the soul.

But dreams enthuse the mind
And urges it to imagine,
Hope inspires the thoughts
And helps enunciate the unseen.

And yet there is a powerful force
That encumbers the expression of art
And thus the artist is left sitting with a blank page
And the creation in his heart.