Wednesday, September 12, 2007


priyanka.she has gifted me a slow death.or have i gifted it to myself
and malign her name
i think of her.i dream of her.and she is not mine.she's a mirage that i
chase and my lips are parched
she is a shadow that i want to grasp
a dirge that i want to sing in a marriage
a death that i want to live
a pain that i want to adore
a void i want to bless existence
i have even lost my way with words
my muse has deserted me
life doesn't seem worth living and death doesn't come
how beautiful death is,how serene,peaceful,loving,all accepting
death loves all,accepts all
she loves and accepts saint and sinner,the mighty and the humble,the wise and the fool alike in her loving arm
then why has death forsaken me
why doesn't she embrace me in her extinction
i wish death would come
like mother's love
she would end my pain
i would cry into her bosom and she would understand
i would tell her how i loved priyanka and how i suffered for her and she would understand
and i would be happy that she understood
and she would tell me of the day when she would embrace her too
and unite her and everybody else with me
amd me with everybody else
till everybody and everything becomes one
and eternal unity


ranjitsingh said...

This is a pure imagination that death will end sufferings, only life can help us doing that, death is a stopage which need another start to finish the uncompleted tasks!

Aman Spandan said...

Probably death is the door to the real. And it is life whihc is the imagined!