The Gift

Poems dripped in passion,

bound by the string of this heart,

were the maximum I could provide.

Gifts of affection,

affection through words

were all this poor soul could strive.

Parchments which remind me of your fragrance

are kept near my bed.

To what has been done to those papers

which bore my signature , I fear.

Have you been asked to burn them?

Are they ripped and torn?

or like everything else,

they too have been thrown,

in a discarded corner, they are locked?

These were the splendours

my small , torn pocket

those days could only hope for.

But now you must have,

jewels that sparkle,

glittering and scintillating,

which brighten your glow.

To what must my gems stand now?

accessories to beautiful you,

surely those dry stones,

their shine must have worn off.

Picture of you is still there,

you glowing and dimming the shine of that candlelight,

kept hidden in a book,

on the binding of which

your name resides.

There are many more images

which are stacked away in this heart,

but they turning to peel away and fall.

As after the picture you had send me,

saying, to me and only me it belonged

So carelessly you put that on auction,

as an exhibit for this world to gaze upon?

These gifts and words were a part of my soul

a part which I had willingly sacrificed.

Laid down in your arms,

for a smile on your face

was all this poor soul had strived.

The gift of the forbidden, unspoken word

was the best this poor soul had tried.

Using that gift to ignite his heart again,

would that be the best way for the last good bye?

Let the poet sleep, disturb him not.

He sleeps in his wooden casket,

surrounded by your gifts and memories

and a flare that still burns in his heart. 

Shadow

See that morning sun,

those birds that chirp away

Till their sound die

I will be your shadow standing near.

Whenever you smile

Laughter is in the air

when you look back

dearth will stare back dear.

It will choke your voice,

shadow of your past reflected in your big eyes

Because I will be standing there.

Shouting out to the world you don’t remember,

Like the dying candle your love has flickered away,

to be replaced by a new blaze of passion?

Don’t tell the world,

Tell your heart

because in some obscure corner

my shadow resides there.

They say you have a heart of stone,

instead of a pulsating piece of flesh

a steel cage is stored.

But the last time I saw,

those muscles beat my name?

So have you exchanged,

All the love in the world

for hate, much more than you can take?

With each gulp of air

or swig of water you take

I will be standing there,

mocking you dear.

Don’t try and turn back

as the past you had burned with your words

It`s decays lie there.

The void that your mind had, unfulfilled

My shadow had succeeded in fulfilling.

But now I have been sucked into this stormy night

flying without wings and means

flying in this endless vast sky

which is slowly turning crimson and dry.

I am closer to the sun now,

it has magnified my shadow

it will engulf you,

and everyone for whom you die.

I had fashioned a goddess,

A goddess from clay,

which I revered as gold,

but slowly, sadly it has started to decay.

I take away my gold,

and leave the clay for other mortal to play,

I take away the luminescence,

but the shadow stays.

In the dark corner where the clay goddess stays,

My shadow still prevails.