When you grieve for the waning moon I wish, I could allure you with the galaxy of stars Till the full moon day And drench you in the song of hope Loud enough, that you don’t hear What others say.
When I dread seeing the sun setting I wish, you could tell me That it sets to rise the next morning And clasp my cold hands With your warm ones To succour me to pull through the appalling evening.
When disquietude strangles you And your eyelids oscillate between uncertainties As you crave for slumber to creep I wish I could croon a lullaby Praying from the core of my heart That could possibly rock you to sleep.
When you see the stone not cracking Despite multiple strikes And I bogging down with despair I wish you could caress my aching body Stoking the dying fire of patience And brace me for the little more pain that I have to bear.
When I sense the lump in your throat growing Your vision getting blurred by the film of tears While you breathe unusually deep I wish I could give you enough warmth So that your melancholies meander out And tell you that you will not be called weak if you weep.
When I stand wide eyed Clad in the cloak of darkness Frantically searching for light I wish you could take it off And pull me out with zest To be soaked in the abundance of sunlight.
When you are drained out of verve Feeling forsaken and detested Thinking that you should try no more I wish I could inoculate hope drop by drop every day Loving you enough, shaking you back into life And tell you that there still are people you need to live for.
In the cosmos, like debris and rubbles Notwithstanding our identities If we could stand for each other May be We could be a lot happier.
Leafing through the erudite sheets Blissfully sniffing biblichor Tempted to relish in the stupor Pint by pint I quaff the printed liquor. Leaping into a different world An eerie road I stride Sometimes as a delinquent lass Sometimes as an evasive bride. Gulping potions of passion Daring to face the wrath of dragon How astute it feels To hurl at kins the literary jargon! Empathy runs in the veins Tears often cascade down the cheeks Involuntary grins deck up the face Heart prompts before the protagonist speaks. Certain enticing pages Shackle the responsive brain Failing to get over them I get back to them again and again. And how it feels to highlight phrases And utter them with the needed style Letting each word seep through skin Making them sacred dogmas for a while. Losing bookmarks in the mean Failing to resist dog earing pages Reading them for the umpteenth time I can’t stop cribbing over the wrinkles in stages.
It is a relaxing jaunt A jaunt from forwards to epilogues Carrying just that one motive To squeeze every drop of expressions and dialogues. And how to forget the pleasure Of counting the pages left As the pages dwindle towards the end The heart weeps in the sorrow of being left bereft. ‘She could have stayed stronger Or he could have acted smarter’ These pop ups never fail to urge To reach and question the author. And scanning through the last leaf Staring at the back cover Rejoicing the end of a tale It’s time to drown in the hangover. Awashed in mystic indulgence Calmness fondles my mind Heart races to find out Whether ‘twas a journey or an elixir I just left behind. After every tireless voyage I become more supple like clay Permissible to be subtly moulded In the way the wordsmith does say. After adding a book to the pile I find a newer version of mine With a different set of verses to use And my visage disgorging a different shine. So I have vowed to devote my every second To quench my silly soul’s greed Not of money or of land But of enough books to read!