Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Why?

Why there is always aching pain subsided beneath the well-masked smile of mine?
Why do I always feel the weighing pressure strangulating me from within?
Why this exasperation is creating havoc with my routine?
Why am I always yearning for the liberation of the unknown?

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Long Boring Story of the Rose

Let me tell you a story today,
A story of once upon a time,
Of two fellas were head over heel in love,
With the only beautiful Rose of time.
A fella of worldly possession,
And another of hearty possession.
Sweated in the competency of wooing
The heart of the angelic rose.


With the aesthetic vase of glittering gold,
And a promise to make it her mansion,
The 1st fella spells the charm of materials.
The charm she could hardly resist.
The 2nd fella promised none,
For he possessed neither gold nor charm,
He pleaded her to stay on the plant
For where she belongs truly.


Willingly the rose went the 1st fella
And left the plant to the 2nd fella.
Truly she claimed the beautiful vase,
Not alone but with silly lily, turnip tulip,
Thrilled were she with the bestowed admiration.
For she was the beautiful emblem of love.
Times passes, petals wilted.
No later were she dumped with the rest.

The 2nd fella nurtured the plant,
For she was the bearer of his unrequited love,
Sincerely he attended day and night,
Both the wounded plant and heart.
Later he saw not one, two or three
But many buds sprouting from the plant,
Slowly turning into the exact rose,
He once madly fell in love with.


The roses born with the regrets,
For she was fool to choose the first
And professed her love for the second.
No longer thrilled were him with the confession.
As he realizes that in vase or on plant,
The roses will eventually wilt.
Her life of season or love of reason,
He wanted none.


He looked at the plant,
The beautiful bearer of the beauties,
The sacrificial soul full of love,
The salient creator of the beauties,
Looked and acknowledge by none,
The beauty so rare and true,
Eventually he fell for her,
Only truly beautiful plant.
















Sunday, March 9, 2014

I am Caged

I am caged
Behind the bars of
The aching choice,
Imposed against the will.
Where I search mine
In their happiness,
And finds none.
I wish to fly,
Up in the sky,
Down in the valley
Freely over the horizon
Living my life,
Catching my dreams.