Lintocmf

The crimson sky wore a dark veil, Hushing even the women in their birth pangs. There seen the array of wailing women, Sobbing, yet feeble and faint, For their last ray of hope that dwindling on the Cross.  While the darkness seeped through the steep valleys, To the thatched huts and posh palaces alike. As the eerie silence engulfed the whole earth, The parched land longed beneath, Craving for a drop of living water. There erected, the Lord of the living streams, Flanked by the two, accused of theft. Opened His shattered lips and begged, “I thirst” …and so said the parched land beneath, “I thirst” …but only the sour vinegar was left. I thirst…the trembling voice resonated the horizons. The crimson gore thickened on the hard cross, While the scanty tunic tossed in the dark gale, Till the last drop paved its way down, Though the parched land refused to gulp, The murky drips that fell off the Cross.   Still heard the feeble voile said…” I thirst...” The Lord or the Land?...

  From morning’s icy embrace, the world sets aglow, While life’s testing loops begin to show. Creator’s brush smears the hue, Painting the time, fresh and anew.   Laughter and tears that ever fall, While the life weaves its tale, on its wall. Life’s span rushes to it’s deep, Crediting me with a profound weep.   Trivial yet, the whispers of every cold breeze, Puts me in the state of relentless ease. Veiling my thoughts in every breath, With the dunes of hope that lies beneath. The dawn’s kiss, elates my spirit forever, To live, and move on with more fervour. Life handcuffed the time, with the dawn’s embrace, While the wheels of life roll on its steady pace.   Linto...

  While the birds depart home in steady pace, And the day's Sun bid to veil his face, Soon bats savour the moonlight in dream, Letting their grips loose to the night's stream. Flaps of wide wings echoed the down hills,  Awaking all such nocturnal one's strong wills. The blue moon milks her light profusely,  Wreathing the dusky earth ever steadily.  Caressing with the lingering fingers, Of moon's blue beams of light that enters,  The deep canyons where the bats breed, While the world easily forgets it creed, Even sloth's slumber gives its way, To the endless nights to stay, Wishing the nocturnal life to reign,  While the day takes a dip in pain.  The twigs around whispered to the leaves, Of the advent of the freezing breeze,  Soon the streams found smeared in hue,  Drenching in heaven's nectar to subdue,  The earth that steeped in slumber,  Forget me not but remember,  it's me the Moon,  Yet, not to depart soon.  ...

                                                                 Pic Credit: Google images Peeped through the half-sealed eye lids, At those wore a sorry face in gloom.   A murky canvas smeared in dark shades, Of all kinds, stood still though. Soul seen panting yet calm, Refusing to concede its defeat in haste. Yelled at all stood around in shrieks of pity, Trying to prove its exit ‘too soon’.   ‘In haste’, the soul blabbered yet futile,   Wrapped in the episodes of defeats and shame, Crimson wounds that spilled gore in haste, Coloured the vultures’ claws that torn her tender flesh. Ripped apart by the lashes of slurs and shouts, Of those reckless rogues who unwrapped her, While laying her bare before the craving vultures. She wasn’t a failure, but failed the crowd, Who craved for her...

                                                                                                                            Guarded by the mountains of dreaminess, life peered into the valley of hours. Qualms seemed to dwindle away to the deepest canyons laid miles away. Mind found trading with hope, with the rhythmic chime of the clock above. Failing to satiate the craving surged often, Unbridled, yet in pretentious calm. The hungry wolf within me woke up in haste, to meet up with the evening’s crimson moon, from the mountaintop of my bloated egos. The scars and fragile flaws let out the gore, with the wolf’s claws digging deep into me. My ...

  And the night Don’t just ask the dreams To depart in haste, For the quickest of its voyage Starts in a spurt of blurry thought. As the gates of my eyes Open up wide to Suspend the dreams Until the next nocturnal hours, And to embrace the dawn In reluctance though. Don’t just ask the dream To depart in hast, I sighed in grief. And the day.

As the hourglass lets its soul sliding, Through its pinch to hit the bottom, As a new dune incarnates with every hour, Through its race along the moment of bliss. The tussle endures elsewhere though, With the ticking of needles at a rhythmic pace. The mind attempts a race against time, With a swift voyage on the never-ending path. The one I wanted the most to stay, But couldn’t be kept often at bay, The moment the race begins to sway, Time carries everything away. Bound to go far away, Never to return, To its rest, though.  Linto