Black or White?

A body embellished with roses that are deep red,
With curtains black and white;
Someone moans in pain or joy,
I don’t know, as I am distant to the sound…
What be it, it’s a black-white life…withered life…

Those curtains never open,
The light of the Sun…the morning’s mist,
Never do they see, and long to see.
Their life’s dark…or were made dark?
Silent voices of painful memories, over gazing thoughts,
Unstoppable tears…?
Moaning voices of joy, ecstatic people, earthly joys…?

Black or White?
White of Black?
I sit back,
At times try to know,
What it all is,
Yet, I have busy schedules from morn to eve,
I try to sleep…
As I wonder what sounds are they…
I slept.

Rich and Ragged

Ragged jeans, half torn shirts;
Wretched bodies…worn out faces with faeces,
Tired eyes…beaten up…baffled by life,
...and a new boy walks away with a rich man’s attire…

New boy walks to his home,
Sits on the chair, while his maid serves his food,
He eats half…throws away the remaining,
…but on the street, the ragged boy spreads his bowl for alms…

Ragged boy’s day’s earning; a dollar…more or less,
Could he eat? Sleep? Or feed his children…? What does he do with it?
New boy spends his money of work,
In extravagance…unjust fragrance…

By the end of the day,
Both head to their home,
To ragged boy, earth’s a home…
New boy’s home; a mansion he owns…

New boy sleeps in his comfortable bed,
Ragged boy looks at the moon,
Spreads his arms, weeps…seeks for justice,
Lays on the ground, weeps and tries to sleep…

Did he sleep? I don’t know…
But I know for sure,
He’s got yet another day to work tomorrow…

Rage…

That bright sun, hid behind the clouds above,
Then the gentle wind blew in euphoria,
And the harsh breeze,
With its enchanting spell,
Filled with sounds of mystic melody,
Treacherous yet spell bounding…

Life is short lived,
So I felt the change,
Discerning…distressing to the vision I own,
The memories of yours,
Drained in vain…

Life isn’t all of happiness,
There are words, tears unshed…
OR unfelt, I ask with a fondly thought,
Your tears and joys, unshed…
Your unspoken silences…heard within.

Some words are best unsaid,
The love you own, is best unexpressed,
Wish her all the joys,
Tell her I’m here when you fall.

Weeping heart, MY EYES are dry.
Mumbling lips, MY LIPS are dead.
Time…cruel time…YOU are ruthless.
Unheard voice, YOUR EARS are deaf!

Un-figured Words

The little crickets make gruesome noise,
As I stared in today’s horizon,
The cold breeze at times blows,
Then it stops, bringing the warmth of your love.

Thus I wonder, do you think of me?
I ponder at the thought…staring to the horizon,
…that I view as your eyes…
Looking at me…guiding me…tending to say,
I am there…here for you.

At this thought,
Tender breeze blew,
Maybe you are the horizon,
Or an illusion I own?

Mortals are we!
Illusions we perceive,
I know its you,
So I look the moon,

That moon so round,
I looked and stared up to it,
Mystic face it seemed to make,
I stared it till the horizon cried…

It felt warm,
I was drenched,
Shivering yet hypnotic,
I gazed the moon,
The cold breeze blew in mighty fury.

Thinking you might…as well be there,
Thinking of me…the way I do…
I retraced my steps…
Yet my destiny…I failed to know…