Thursday, 28 August 2008

All Turns To Ash- In Rememberance Of My Great Grandfather

Raging thunder ruthlessly
End white walled empty dreams.
Lids and books flutter open,
A placid hour spent
Spurning Hypnos' pestilence.

Another disruption, now
Upon the groaning gate.
Enter a pair in consternation
Faces held long after
Lengthy deliberation.

A brief sentence, a passing death,
A murmured syllable made inaudible.

Deterrents leave, pages turn
Thoughts turn to poetry, to crimson hearts.
A silent door opens, unveiling
A fold of paper in a knoll of cloth.
Upon it are delicate words
By an innocence lost.

The calligraphy intended for a relative gone
The hopes now crushed, faith begone.

Now restored in its early grave
Left to mourn in ashen years.
On occasion, revealed
Allowing streams to roll down
A remembering face.

The saline is then
Wiped, walled, bottled, burnt.


Vasudha said...

Touching. Love this one. :)
Know you're already on a blitzkrieg, but wish you posted more often. :P

Nikita said...

Blitzkrieg has reached its end. :P

And thanks.

L@$H@ said...

You know i sometimes wonder, how do you write in such beautifully used english??
I mean, its so non-colloquial..

And its beautiful :)

kika said...

I love the whole thing!

I could have pasted the whole of it.


*Full energetic crowd applause*

Nikita said...

Finally a poem that was understandable!!

Radhika Saxena said...

yeah I also understood,chamatkaar! :D
Tis beautiful! aww!!

wild iris said...

This is beautiful...

And great blog, by the way! =)