Monday, February 14, 2011

a report on the accidental death of soul

Brain used to die perpetually
and soul used to survive
this time soul is dead and brain survived

Riding on a wagon of hopelessness
soul tumbled down in the valley of distress
‘O joy’, screamed before he died
it was hard enough to break his breath
and he looked up to the blue sky
seclusion accompanied him while he died

A blow of knife is enough
to die a man, enough is a stroke of rock
but without breaking rhythm from the songs
without snatching greens from the trees
the soul never dies

Time said that
we will see the searing river
but we never see a voice
which is lost forever
we hear the wisdom
sounding in the cachinnation
but never hear the cry of salty liquids
time said so much

How silently he died
in the conspiracy of time itself
no one got the chance
to be in his funeral
came no flowers smelling hypocrisy
listed not a relief-sum of some wishes too

Sensitivity is barren and compassion is dull
oh, lantanas are growing on the grave of soul.

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