Quest

Pursuing the elusive shadow

I hover in mere hopelessness

This absurd and vain struggle

Tiring me, leading nowhere

I keep running though

A murky creation of my brain

Impeding my vain struggle

And thus I wonder

I get tossed into a mental tussle

But life goes on and on

This futile quest shan’t cease

Ere I die and fade out

And thus another vain quest is born…

Bright noise

My thoughts drop like hail,

But they dance like dust

I am the hesitant ray that peeks

My thoughts the dust that spins within

Oh but the despair can be prodigious

It drives me to absurd reflection

And I become the ray

That meets the floor silently

Only to pen this noise

Prison

Misplaced fear has maligned all wisdom

This throng fears its own creation

One light is extinguished

Another torch quickens in ebony flame

The morals made inviolable

They are traitors to compassion

The crowd beholds itself in saintly light

Inherited superiority, a child of their faction

Each group panders its supremacy

Morality cowers with fear in a dark corner

Her fellow prisoners embrace her,

While apathy keeps a stringent watch

Congeniality in dusk

I shall give without question

Should you reach out in despair

A small light for the stubborn night

Hold my hand and walk

The orb will last but a day

Place your hand there to garner strength

Let the journey last a mile or two

My succor is not my inner light

But my woes that I did repair

To lend some of my darkness to yours

Mashal

Ignorance unites them in fiery rage

Their leader is the marionette on the stage

The will of inheritance they fulfill

Harmony is pushed away by a callous chill

In the eyes of imagined gods

Armed with hatred they take to the roads

Their actions are to them an ethical calling

Listless, they find sanctuary in carnage and mauling

They heed the legacy of faithless faith

Guided again by their brutal wraith

Momentary passion clouding sense

The poor victim deprived of all defense

Don’t be silent but shout from the roof

Please don’t ask for reason or proof

They may have picked up rock and lance

Pray, don’t aid them with apathy and chance

Cuts in time

These ruins are almost pallid

Their only hue the rust of time

I travel to the distant past while walking

Body and brain divided in time

Suddenly I come crashing down

For I see a spectacle of glorious splendor

On a leaf the size of my hand,

Rests a dew drop too large to rest

Every few moments it slides

Seeking an escape from its green home

It too feels like a misplaced relic

The leaf a dream from the past

The ground a torrid reminder of the present

The sadness of mirth

Unbeknownst to me, woe befriended my soul

Many a winter ago, she crept in wordlessly

Innocence pushed me forward into the woods

The masses regaled by my congenial spirit

Eaten away from the core and left mangled,

I embellished the exterior with a nippy wit

Sometimes they marvel at the ready retorts,

As i hold melancholy discourse within

I dwell in this dissonance betwixt woe and mirth

One my fate, the other my shroud

Moral eclipse

Here we stand after decades of baby steps

Thinking minds still awaiting the leaps

Many a pebble have we kicked in this journey

Sadly, not many stones turned

The miles behind us were mostly barren ground

We behold the effulgent sun ahead

Wisdom lies in building a cottage

Making a window to let in some light

To the customary impulse we blindly yield

Our eyes shielded from the sun,

The myopic shadow of our own palms,

Protecting us from light for another mile

Across the rain

Oh this storm is relentless and rages on

Its clamour has awakened sleeping ghosts

I had put them to bed years ago

Wrapped in the blanket of sorrow,

Intoxicated by the lullabies of tears

They stir today as I tread this path

My feet so sure on this clattering gravel

Contentment meets the eye of the hermit

As he beholds my resolute stride

There is no echo in the forest,

To reprise the storm within

Noise

Into myself have I withdrawn with time

Interaction more an affliction than pleasure

Such complex creatures we are

We have so much to learn from the seeds,

Whence we sprouted not too long ago

One is born with innocence and simplicity

When one marks words with but an open ear

As time pounds us with her unforgiving tides,

The heart listens, the mind listens

Ears but find repose in an ageless rest

While we endeavour assiduously to deduce

So much said with open hearts,

So much heard with closed minds

Our words, but a drum in the cacophony