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Angad Singh Poem
Mirror, tell me what you see
When you laugh at me,
Mirror, tell me you cry for me
When you laugh at me.
Darkness eclipses even the brightest dawns,
For these flames are dreams that once I had drawn,
Reasons fail to have me comprehend
What at this opportunistic hour do I intend.
This cancer of mine finds its cure in death,
Death merely of mind, and not of breath
For I hold the key to the realisation of dreams
But know not why so perished I still seem.
Tell me mirror, why do you have me be
Why all you do is laugh at me,
Mirror, tell me you cry for me
When you laugh at me.
Hours go by, still lost in you my hollowness,
Seeking a way out of all my profound adroitness,
For they will aid my efforts through,
But I keep lamenting what’s not even true.
Now I realise it’s you who directs the show,
But act only too ignorant, don’t you my alter ego
Tell me you pity my worthless brilliance,
When you sadistically enjoy your rule over my conscience,
Mirror, tell me you cry for me
When you laugh at me.
Copyright © Angad Singh | Year Posted 2007
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Angad Singh Poem
So long,
So long has been his refrain
From sinful wrong,
Still his righteous paragons, now besieged in bane,
Are seemingly unable to fuel this honest man’s motionless train
His hands - only too close to the nearest chain.
So futile,
So futile has been his valorous voyage
Traversing many a mile,
That never has any laurel graced his life’s dreary pages
Never has any triumph adorned the gates of this sage,
His chest only just holds the overflowing rage.
So patent is his spirit, irrefutable is his belief
In his Lord, of whom he claims to be the son
That the most incorrigible devotees of God
May even question the existence of one.
Forlorn,
So forlorn has been his path
That hopes have met scorn
Still the heart of this godforsaken loner tames its fuming wrath
For he won’t let the sun set on his yacht
Which he will station only on the steps of reward.
So long,
For so long have his efforts yielded unjustifiable distress
That his aching eyes long,
That his jaded body pleads for success
The taste of which has eluded the drying lips of his quest
But so long, so long is the road before he rests…
Copyright © Angad Singh | Year Posted 2007
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Angad Singh Poem
While glorifying God and singing his praise,
To behold one of his not-so-generous creations, I amaze,
For an unclothed toddler condemned to a footpath
Simply arrests my unflinching gaze.
Of the tallest high-rises and even towering prides
And those who have been blessed by the divine’s might,
The one that catches my eye,
is the damned little painful sight.
For he does not know what his forbidden life may hold
And that for a few coins and some food he has been sold,
To the venomous hands of fate
That profanes this naked life to fight this chilling cold.
For no wrong of his, he has submitted to the destiny’s knife
And complied to fall into this abysmal strife,
Such is the ambiguity of it,
Such is the inscrutable truth of life.
This cringe that I now feel forces me to regard
The precious gift of life that overcomes every wrath
And thank God for I’m not the unclothed toddler
The one condemned to a footpath.
Copyright © Angad Singh | Year Posted 2007
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Details |
Angad Singh Poem
And so the self-pitiful interlude
Exits, so I make way
For myself, so charming and delightfully rude,
Mesmerising you with every word I say.
Although satisfying is the air I breathe,
Yet as if it were a circle so vicious,
That from within the body that of swagger reads,
It reappears, and so the hiatus.
Only this time it really burns
And ruefulness turns into angst
Louder the curses become and quicker it runs
I take off. For now starts my quest.
And so in pursuit of reasons, I cast
My probing eyes on every soul
And my windows show me that I’m not alone
For all, a rage inside they hold.
And for stars above have brighter shone,
So it burns their soul
Now I know why I’m not alone
For all, a rage inside they hold.
Copyright © Angad Singh | Year Posted 2007
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