Friday 6 May 2016

We could not Come Close

Of the very late in September
Of tumultuous year we pierced each other
Silent eyes met contacted corner.
They turned soon the other side
To peep into the scarlet flowers’ glide.
We were nervous feeling the breaths beat
And parted for months in solitary seat.
Of the very early in next October
We marched soul by soul  
And turned aside in mid November.

I have been reiterating our relations
In December of our journey
Why we could not come close to know
Each other’s true heart beatings illumine
Every confusion of stoutly tangled emotions.
I feel like one who laughs abnormally
And turning shall remark quickly
His own expression in dry reflection
My self-possession seems a naught
In the gutter of wastes collection.

All lives wear the pretention of innocence
Though understand unspoken language of mortals
Under the mechanical and tired desire
Under the pretention truth struts
And flies in the high sky with automatic wings
“It falls, grows pale, specter-thin and dies.”
Certainly does it happen, truly does it lie.
This galvanizes me. I am no past.
It hurts me.
This is the way life crosses the earth
Staring behind the euphoric dearth. 
                                           © Written by Manoj Kumar Mishra

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