Quote of the day

The Life of this world is but a comfort of illusion


Sunday, March 27, 2011

O thou, there, thee
Thee Anna, thee Donna, thee Chhotu,

Where are you?

You were in me
I was in you

You are still all over in me
Where is that me in you?

Am I dead inside in me
Am I dead inside you?

I breathed your breath, I lived your pulse n beat
I walked your walk, I dreamed your dreams n feat

I hoped the helical hopes, I slid up those slopes
I treaded those unsure paths
I kneaded an unlikely dough
Yet thirsted & partook of that sweet wine and bountiful bread
Of lengthening my shadows in your lovely light

Dare I say that I always saw the inevitable end
Nay, never imagined it would steal-in so nefariously near

Now that I am heaving for my breath, my pulse n beat
Now that I am limping for my walk, my dreams n feat

Now that I scratch my skin and soul to find,
I open my un-drunk eyes to see

I am dead inside you
I am dead inside me

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