There are times when
You ask yourself :
"Is this where I want to be"?
And the inner voices respond,
With resounding silence.
A solid curtain of blankness.
Warm tears envelop you.
Numbness anaesthetizes you.
The inner hollowness gets to you.
Rio frio de dolores!
Bonjour tristesse!
A lover's caress
could heal you;
bathe you in warm sunshine,
salve you with liquid penitence.
My mind is barren,
memories dried up,
imagination spent.
I keep time,
to life's ceaseless dance,
and walk along in a trance.
Inertia burdens my being
I run out of things to feel.
Solitude my only solace.
.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
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2 comments:
kinjal sir!
Nice poetry. What are you up to man?
yours very old acquaintance,
Arunava Chakrabarti
(still bows down to the acuteness of thee in physical, and organic chemistry!)
Enjoyed reading your blog...thought I'd drop in a line before I left.
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