The barren winds
blow across
my healed scars,
tying a knot
of unbearable sighs.
The fleeting questions
that I hide
in my bare bosom
lynches me
in veins of pain.
Do You hear me, O' Lord?
The frail life
that defeats the barriers
through silent struggles
have lost the strength
and the words have dried
in your prayers.
I'm a past of You
with a beacon
of ensnared prophecies.
Do You heed them, O' Lord?
The wheels of time
sewed up the ailing moans,
but the soul immersed
in piousness
died at the mercy
of penance.
I ask,
Why doth You
turn a blind eye
when I need thy
vision to see the Sun.
I'm a gossamer
glossed in your schemes,
Now torn up into
sheer shreds, sheer shreds...
Copyright © 18 Aug 2008, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved
4 comments:
Old English <3 beautiful <3
Thanks Sirisha :)
Such great poetry! If only I could manage half of what you managed to weave!
Love the last verse.
Thanks for being so kind, Manisha. You write awesome, have read couple of your posts :)
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