Some things never change,
Pain just takes a new form;
Deprived of writing my fingers thought,
Poetry: my heart craved!!
Tomorrow is just another page,
Or perhaps a verse I wish to write,
Nails don’t burn,
The only resort of this bard!!
Let the pain brush against the swollen skin,
The invisible breathlessness suffocates me;
The ‘ writer me ‘ is patient ;
The ‘ poet me ‘ is insurgent!!
The desire runs through my breath;
One more night and I shall faint ;
Let the pain increase but I shall write ;
Till I can be the blue flower upon your feet;
Oh, Lord with the Trident, I wait for your call!!
Life is a mere death now;
Poetry is all I have;
A pauper and a princess in one ;
Oh Lord, I want to be home !!
Let me burn in your love ,
For Sati too did it once;
Will you not come for me then ?
Let me burn in pain , O Lord,
Let my pain create the mantra,
And my burn, the ashes upon your feet !!