The Phlegmatic Moon

A pearl in the black velvet
Listening intently to the breath,
The clear, solemn darkness
The cold tear to caress---
The mountain ravine guzzling
In this rugged lassitude.

Oh! The virgin silk-skinned damsel,
The lascivious desire dissemble;
Oh! The undefiled queen of the night
Stay up late, so I might,
See your ineluctable face
Reflected in the watery haze.

To see you gleaming in my eyes
To hear the languish in your voice,
I feel my soul comforted
Among the myriad layers of darkness;
Oh! The virgin silk-skinned damsel,
Oh! The undefiled queen of the night!!

-------- The moon is shinning so brightly... but I can only see her through the iron bars of my window...

Firefly

Shrouded in the darkness
Nothing visible in sight,
Moving about with surreptitious guile
With its own faint light;
No one does it depend upon
To show its path,
Guided by its own light
Flying, without being hurt.

The lighted ship
In the invisible firmament,
Guided by itself
Towards its own atonement;
Unmatched from those halogen bulbs,
Condoned light to show.
Sailing impeccably
In this sea of obscurity,
Like an asteroid in the night sky
Searching for its destination.

A flash of light
In this esoteric darkness,
Obliterating the barriers
In its ephemeral vision;
The minuscle light to show
The path in this mysterious voyage.
As the sun sets in the horizon,
A new sparkle is born,
Escorting the butterflies
Towards the withered flowers.

Transcendence

Like a lighted candle enclosed
Within the glassy walls,
The flame of life burns
In this ephemeral reality;
Savouring its own warmth
Unscathed from the mysterious breeze.

The light will gradually fade
Like the crepuscular blaze of sunset,
Only to be obscured by the rebirth
Of the nocturnal grandiose.
The ticking of clock counting
The days set by destiny.

We are, but the withered flowers
Trodden by the step of time;
Your warm embrace
Will hold its amiable touch
Like the pure mountain snow
In the hands of time!

Eternal Sleep

A spell I can't wake from,
Sleeping soundly like a hibernating reptile;
Feeling your tears gliding on my face,
I lie dying in your arms.

Trying to wipe your wet cheeks
With my immovable hands,
I run for a shelter
In this tormenting blitzkreig!

Holding your hand
For the very last time;
The Angel of Death is here,
To lead me into the Kingdom of Silence.

Like the dark sand
Resting at the bottom of the sea,
Journeying through the abyss,
Death is the darkened horizon we'll reach!

Luscious is my rest,
As the kiss of my loved one,
Her veiled heart knows no bounds,
Covered by a black cloud of sadness.

Forever shall I roam
On the banks of oblivion's river,
The petals of withered roses
Settling on my scorched tears!

The Wait

The iridescent hues of sea-water,
The invocation of the flying birds,
Crepuscular light slowly fading,
Twisted shadows I face.

Walking alone without light around,
No light I see, no darkness do I feel;
Looking around to find a way
My cynical mind finds none.

Is this reality or a dream?
I wait for a sign, crying for relief,
The dank air is all I inhale
Walking along my own footprints!

Feeling the end approaching near,
I don't know where to turn,
Lying down on the hollow earth
Till eternity do I wait.

Anarchy

Shadowy walls,
Invisible light from the bulb;
Faltering,
Along the dark memory lanes.


Like a firefly
To a man on a bleak desert night;
Shrouded in the dark,
Except for the spark.

The drive through the highway,
With the headlights leading,
Learning to use the 'cones'
On hearing those impeccable tones!

Trying to look for the faint moonlight,
Masked by the black trees;
Walking through this land of tranquility
Searching for a way in this surreptitious serenity!

------------ the title is such because of the rumbling n jumbling of the entire piece....

Ritual

In the clearing of the forest, a man was lying almost dead. Age has forced him to be in this body not for long. His family members count the last moments of his life.

A crowd has gathered around the body of the man eagerly waiting for his last breath. It has been a ritual for all the people of the tribe to see the last rites performed. They believe that this vision is holy and on seeing this, they would gather courage and strength to fight the other tribes in the fight for supremacy.

The old man lay there writhing in pain, difficult for him to breathe. His eldest son steps close to him. The silent crowd stood gazing at the son. It is now time to carry out the ritual. The son gets hold of his father's right hand, The hand which has fought vigorously over the years to establish the supremacy of his tribe. With monsterous strength the son twists and wriggles the hand until it is broken. Then with a knife he cuts through the flesh of his almost-dead father's right hand and brings out the radial bone. By this time, individual chantings are heard from the people around.

He lifs the bone aloft for everyone to see and a cheer from the crowd fills the air. Then suddenly the son starts chewing on the bone until it is crushed to pieces. Astonishing is the maxillary strength of the man. The crushed bone is then buried in the ground and the body left to rot.

Everytime a man of this tribe dies, the same ritual is performed by his eldest son. The pain the dying person suffers in his very last moments reminds him of the pain endured in his lifetime. It is believed that he will die a very peaceful death now that the pain has gone away along with his body. The soul will now be free from all bondages and will no longer undergo the pain received in his lifetime. The burial of the crushed bone signifies the bondage with Mother Earth. And the body left to rot shows that his memory will slowly fade away in the minds of his tribesmen as his body rots to nothing.

---- this is the first short story in this blog... dunno if such things really happen... this was a dream....