4. Beginning of the End...

Have you ever felt
The world crashing
All around...
Down to your feet
Your arms swaying
Like the purple breeze
Desperate to catch hold
Of anything nearby.

Have you ever stood
By the words of someone
You had loved
Someone you wouldn't now meet...
Your heart wrenched
Out from your chest
Desperate to live by
Promises trodden on by proud feet.

Have you ever thought
What happens when
One word
One gush of breeze
Can flame out a life,
Desperate to forgive yourself
Of the mistaken brazen sin.

Have you ever cried?
I haven't...
I tried to, but the swooning
Swarm of egotism
Slapped the tender heart
Bitter to the bottom from
The misery it couldn't withstand.

Have you ever seen
The look on a face...
That face
You're looking at
For the last time
Like the pink sprouts of paddy
Chopped down,
Not desperate anymore.

Have you ever prayed?
I haven't...
But now the wishful reproach
That the inflamed selfishness
Simmered on
Will be no more.

The darkness begins to descend
Bringing to light the era that was spent
Gushing toxin into a life
Just a few strokes of which remain
Goodbye my friend,
This be the beginning of the end...

3. March of the Yogi

Ah there! My friend behold
Marches the yogi bright
Blazing like the sun, his countenance
Radiating the Divine light.

He has no place in mind,
The whole earth his territory,
He marches towards truth
Feasting on a soulful victory.

His mind now, completely a tool,
His soul now, the only thirst left
The Blissful Eternal,
Oh! Will he always be bereft!

He looks at everything now,
Smiles to himself surmising
"Ah, of my Father's creation
Mine is Everything but nothing."

Marching ahead to the dawn of Bliss
On the road to Complete Submission,
Not a drop of tear-his master's command
On the steadfast ascent, to the ultimate fusion.

2. Shattered Glass...

Fragments of broken glass
Scattered all over the morning grass
In the wake of sunrise glitter
Like the fabled fortunes of past.


Days when we were children
And had no worries no scars -
Have vanished to give guns and gallows
Instead of playground - the altar.


Fools! Are they? Are WE fools instead?
They cry for their woes, we don't -
They pick up weapons, so that
We hear them - we don't.


Vultures! like there always are
A monkey between two cats,
Who for their selfish desires
Sacrifice these grief - blinded rats.


Rats? They are!
To follow, not to choose
Between the unheard of unseen peace
And another quicker but violent truce.


But man is a lover of peace
And of course not a rat!
Does he deserve in his chest
A deaf bullet or the warmth of heart?


So, the day shall come when
The night gives way -
To a dawn of love and bliss;
Return to the future, led by the shattered glass.