Friday, September 17, 2010

Echomorph


















A slow but steady drift , towards an unseen end
Sometimes it craves for a spiral beginning
Sometimes it breathes through those remains
That circles the motionless thoughts spinning

Why doesnt nature calls for a clear sky
And the blank space inside the mind
Became this blackhole by sucking all the whys
The rewind went somewhere else and so did time

The morning starts with a promise
But yields more illusions than the previous night
Is it just one soul or the lesser known sunrise
None to chase or praise , weakness speaks of this plight

Nights are doorway to more emptiness
Unlike a zen monk with clarity in his choice
But more close to that moth running away
from everything only to seek endless cries

Disclosure of a divine disconnect of fate
And dreams whisper "I am gone , I am gone"
The reality grows stronger as fallouts procrastinate
The melody went somewhere else and so did this song

This life has started shredding its skin
Shadows of parallel conclusions has started disappearing
No attempts can replace this cosmic win
Some are condemned right since the beginning

Key to find meanings in lost relics
Is just like asking falling feather from the high
Why does a conscious mind ever speaks
When its the only audience to its own demise

With each step a new horizon of black arises
Carpet is laid for every pain thats going to be endured
Someones up there must be rolling my dices
One can understand , a sick mind like this cant be cured

A dusted road with wind shattering the light
Wheels move faster towards the end of this horizon's sight
This soul can never cherish , a moment thats bright
My dreams died somewhere and so did I.


3 comments:

Vinnie said...

Rags, i'm doing ok, nothing to boast or ridicule about myself, life has kept me anchored down in no-man's land...but i will recoil.

i wanna be optimistic n die chasing my dreams than mock at it sitting inside my comfort bubble. in this context, i found this poem quite disturbing...

"One can understand , a sick mind like this cant be cured" - minds r pure, never sick; one can consciously choose to generate sick or unsick thoughts from this pure mind....ur dreams have not died, n nor have u....so buck up, clean up the slate n do some hardcore dream regeneration.

Take care Rags, u have a beautiful mind.

i may be completely offtrack...u tell me ;)

Satans Darling™ said...

You do have a beautiful mind. And the mind does manage to generate sickness with all the filth around it, I feel. Well, what do I say Rag... It's a poem with a lot of impact as usual. But it is so well crafted, and carefully written.. It really speaks to me. Loved it completely :)


Why doesnt nature calls for a clear sky
And the blank space inside the mind
Became this blackhole by sucking all the whys
The rewind went somewhere else and so did time

these lines, I liked the best! :)

Hope you're doing super fine Rags,

poetically yours too,
Ash :)

Ragpicker said...

@vins: Glad to find you once again putting your heartfelt feedback on my work. I dont condone the fact this poem may sound disturbing because it is about disturbing facts of life.

I just needed to put some form to all the of the negativity that surrounds us. I hope you can understand this :)

@ash: Thanks for sharing feedback. I may have a mind but calling it beautiful would be way out of sync. :). Without sickness theres no cure. So for a mind to cure , there needs to be some sickness around . I wanted shove this sickness in the poem. Nothing more ..

You tell me whats up with ya ?