Persuasion…!

“You must not carry suffering

as the night carries darkness

and the day – lights,

for both are often overwhelmed of their companions

anxious, as if they would belie themselves

you should instead carry it

like a broken mirror carries its reflections

as if enslaved, obsessed, possessed

for it can never stop imaging

despite being wrecked and again

only to tear itself apart upon being seen

as if exposed, mocked, tormented

and yet knowing there is no escape

you must collect pieces of self

trampled down, scattered around

in the ruins of solitude…”

Scribbling:

“Taste of

Saliva, sweat, blood

Spell of

Chaos, obsession, madness

Thrill of

Death, destruction, darkness

And

Mundane as this life appears

while

Resentment, rage, reason

Feasts

upon corpses…”

Tragedy of wanderer

Scribbling:

Tragedy of wanderer:

“Love always found solace in the bosom of death, but he insisted for it to be exhibited with life for once but only to make a mockery of its lonesome figure amidst myriad of shadows passing by who ridiculed and accused him of treachery, while he stood there in chaotic silence unable to fathom his own tirades of questions. He had just witnessed a humiliating showdown with hate that he lost and how, oh! Only if he could realize there always lurked animals hidden in bright light of days preying upon such vulnerable ones, who find themselves broken and fallen at the end of such failed exhibition upon so called animated life. He felt to drown himself in a glass of oblivion with a faint hope that probably the night would let him hold her once more forgiving his such imprudence towards darkness. Darkness for it always gave him a secret taste of death and he scribbled his musings off its visage. Alas!

Scribbling:

“Pain, a sedative so fine
Offers glimpses of death sublime…”

Worthless-man!

"Being a worthless man

Squandering about

Holding onto tainted shadows

Carrying nothing but hollow promises

Banished off the holy land of hope

He wandered along the muddy ridge of indifferences

Picking pieces of himself broken, lost along the way

Some that he had attempted to throw upon clouds

Only to find him at receiving end, as if spitted upon

Well, well, what else to expect

Being a worthless man

Oh dear, such is the tale of

Being a worthless man

Scheming about

Hiding beneath blots of suspicion

Bound to be caught red-handed and again

Only to be ousted off the boundaries of solicitude

And there, now

Left alone, drunk upon solitude

He wonders

Whether even the night hates him yet

Whether even darkness would refuse

To let him come, any closer

Whether even death would offer him any solace

Being a worthless man…”

Praveen Parasar

04/03/2017

Drop by drop…!

“Drop by drop we drank the moon

Drop by drop the night drank us

Drop by drop our bodies burnt

Drop by drop we melted away

Drunk upon each other

Drop by drop we sunk beneath darkness

Drop by drop our faces fell apart

Drop by drop we collected our shadows

Drop by drop we buried our heart

Drop by drop we lost the art

Of making love,

Drop by drop

Drop by drop, oh darling!

We walked past the dawn

and there were fragments of us

tangled around, oblivious, alone

as if pieces of a dream long way gone

and nothing but a few mere words

left scattered upon paper

as if too wounded to carry themselves

to their graves even

Drop by drop

Drop by drop…”

Praveen Parasar

21/02/2017

Final Verdict…!

“Once pronounced a culprit

Your leftover innocence mocks you

While your futile struggle offers little help

To climb out of the swamp of indifferent hearsay

Left to sink beneath the porous ground

Built upon heaps of morality

That were never meant to carry

Slightest weight of reason

You are only to find solace

In warmth of shame and guilt

While losing breaths over damned mud

it fills your body as hungry larvas

lurking to lick you off your bones

as if to wipe your dirty existence

and naked of your foul defense

declared evil, you are to be burnt

fire fueled by surmises does well

you scream would turn out as empty howl

for laughing passing by gushing winds

while virtuous gods would celebrate

the ceremonial end of a declared vice

Justice must be delivered

Or so they say, indeed!

you must not seek any help, but suffer

for being marked an outcast

you have only self to blame…”

Praveen Parasar

15/02/2017