Thursday, March 15, 2012

Fables of Love – Lament

In the sulphurous air of rattling guns
Amidst the pool of leaking blood,
In a land of penultimate breath
When wishes sentenced to hell,
I dreamt of her for one last time…

In those penniless days in uniform
Amidst a bunch of euphoric bastards,
In the period of shapeless solitude
When joys anchored masturbation,
I met her for the very first time….

In several attempts of poetic reform
Amidst million dream chasing hearts,
In the comfort of my standstill caravan
When pen and paper were all I had,
I kept meeting her from time to time…

In the growing appetite of sceptic hours
Amidst infinite lost souls in slumber,
In the agony of losers blame game
When fantasy unmasked as fake to me
I declined to see her even for one more time…

But in the wail of irremediable wounds
And amidst the pompous ruins of sin,
In the silence of unbound shame
When repentance had lost her wings
Alas if I could see her for one last time…