Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.223.238.221
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
My harmony is the preserver of my banality, which, when shaken and stirred by the disturbers, pump up the mouth by Words, occasionally jargons. But having a very keen eye at my aloneness I safely prefer to pen them down.
 
Those Disturbers appears to be ghastly wretched as they abruptly snatch away the regularities of my Life for an ephemeral timespace. They throw me far away ahead of myself. I am jettisoned onto a far away Moral Plane with those little earthly ambitions left unconquered, sometimes unnoticed, mostly uncared for. All I am left with is an anxiety driven conscience and hands catching the beats of my Heart.
 
I surely know, I am assured, that these little ambitions are my ticket to an enclave brimming with conclaves devoid of any material corruption and by outward appearance, moral carcass too. They are my PSLV's and GSLV'S, hurrying me into the space of opportunism, a space where an ambitionist is given a home run, a space where your rationale and aptitude for nickle and dime confirms your prudence.
 
Again I surely know, I am assured, that I don't do justice to them with my ever escalating penchant for those disturbers that knock me out of my sleep every morning like a bundled Newspaper, bringing the curtains down onto my enactment of accepting the mundanity(those little ambitions) that I am expected to accept.

Is this everyday tussle adding layers of transformation or just piling up an uncalled for burden is still a conundrum. The spectrum of the disturbers is in an expansion mode with reverberating Music and eyeball grabbing picture in motion also causing the familiar effect. Moral science lessons unknowingly percolating into the entanglements of my reasons are manifestations of those disturbers. An urgency, a will to leave my footprints, a will to orchestrate my Legacy, a will to seek and imbibe from people with talismanic stature, even immitating their ideologies, is again a manifestation. 
 
This soul stretching is exasperating and exhaustive. It's a rubik cube I have to deal with, I have to bear with. But it's a part of the parcel that I was wrapped in and sent to the grills to get grilled. I am trying to uphold the spirit of Life I believe in. We must hold and carry what we must, what we ought to. Each one of us own a rubik cube to brainstorm with. With all the innocence in my pockets, I just want to tell each one of you in a heavy baritone, that 'You are not alone'.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required