Notes About The Poem
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Lament of Life
dear me, the woe of time weaved with
~ ultraviolence ~
you have held me close, in the universe of
~ hesitance ~
but, does the vigilance in you whisper low?
when the bluebirds of blemished love know,
as I fly away, where black dahlias bleed
and dance to the wine-blush of weeds,
that never forgot the cry of the morose moon
embellishing omen with emerald rune,
because everything is not forsaken,
in cacophonous croons, we remain mistaken;
when blames bear a blade,
and fears wear fame, with the face of fake fervent flame ~
fluent in the language of aching alchemy,
who deceive my tranquilizing truths with the blood they bury
my worst enemy is the life I kept replaying without any comprehensive catharsis,
in the vinyl of wistfulness being my own villain, my nemesis;
in bloom-less sunsets, I metamorphose
to my own crow-kissed cavern and cosmos ...
"lick the sun with the tongue of torment ~
and taste my tears as you burn, O sky-dreamt,
but not enough, to see the oblivious
where my metaphors remain mysterious,
stigmatised by the spirit of the shadow
that inks my name, with stardust does
only to be erased ~ by their death ...
and here, I lament in kohl-laden breath "
so forgive me, m i s t r e s s of the p a s t,
tie my throat with knots of thistle kismet at last~
as cruel pearl cherubs poison this petal,
and I become a rhyme in soul-metal,
whirling in wildflower witchery ~
between the sepals that echo misery;
but I do not seek to summon the dark,
and reminisce waterlily dusks with mauve marks,
for, I will remain a sign of serendipity
the one you know, I shall kiss ~till eternity
and be left bereaved... the way...
this life has never been mine to lull away...
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