16 October, 2015

Shattered Panes

Through shattered panes in the cocoons of life
Faint lights of memories slowly seep in
Afraid he is, to open his eyes to them
to acknowledge what he has hidden within

Flashes of a beautiful smile, the touch of the last kiss
memories, of a desperate hug, of a pillow found wet in the morning
Haunted by a question, again and again day and night
“If you leave, then who will care for my being?”

Charred he was, not by hatred, for hatred too is a manifestation of love
No, hatred can be felt, caressed, held, thought upon
Charred he was by indifference, hers, which she conjured to save herself from anger
Charred he was by regret, for cursed never to find love again he was

Once he was able, tall, and strong, a commanding presence who owned the world
His breath was an order to the winds, his voice a warning to foes
Now he looks a shadow of his formal self – obedient, still, unthreatening
Weakened, by thoughts he owned in his own mind

Shivering hands, vacant eyes, thinning hair, and slow movement
Hard to tell if still alive or already dead
A dog does stay near, the last remaining bit of life
The last companion, never to strive and never to fight

He smiles at a memory of a long forgotten distant dream
A memory from another life, he sees lights and drapes and colors and smiles
He sees himself dancing, embracing his lovely cohort
Now only ghosts remain, of a maiden voice divine

The scent of her last kiss still lingered on his lips
The touch of her being still felt in frail hands
Life had snatched much from him, but not this memory
Whether to comfort or not haunt, he knew not still

He stayed away from feelings, knowing they end in despair
He thinks but what else did, he in the end get to bear?
He lost loved ones and he lost those who loved him
He saw the future and lost everything to it

Lose he did himself and lose he did his soul
Why? To what end? For what purpose, he didn’t know
Destiny brought him this far, he never intended to come
Swayed by the drift, he went along with the run

Always about to reach his goal, always missing, always trying harder
Now he realizes, there was no goal all along
It was always all about the run, always running was the aim
And so he writes, his last words, to tell the world of this secret

Broken pieces of memories let him see the future
For never did he learn, to cherish the present, to love in the now
Spent a lifetime, to earn a few moments from time
Which he remembered about the world, which the world would remember about him

And now he looks ahead, silent, calm, still as a stone
And now he falls, no tumbles, to the ground
No one but a dog makes a sound
And none cares about the soul lost to time

Vishal Gupta
12 October 2015