Everything i did for you
Is not enough
The sacrifice i bid for you
Is not enough
Everything I've been through
I'd do it again for you
Everything I've bled through
I'd do it again for you
The things that i would die for
Is not enough
The things they took my life for
Is not enough
Wanted me on the side walk
Fighting a psy-war
You are the one that i try for
is not enough...
Everything I've been through
I'd do it again for you
Everything I've bled through
I'd do it again for you
I stopped thinking about me
When i think about you
I stopped thinking about me
When i think about you
Everything I've been through
I'd do it again for you
Everything I've bled through
I'd do it again for you
If I were a cat
I’d scratch this and that
To me it wouldn’t matter
I’d pee on the floor
Chip paint off the door
Maybe jump on the counter
I act like a cat
Thinking this and that
But actions always matter
So now I’m a man
I sit with my sham
And I begin to shatter
Because I can see
It always was she
Left crying, dying, after
A deep hunger from my breast arose,
from my head down to my toes,
or perhaps my stomach was the source.
Anyway, I ate a horse,
and I'm suffering remorse.
heart stricken with remorse
too much pain in losing you
please reconsider
Bear , with me,Lord, upon my lonely way;
Your guiding hand I need to see the light,
And keep my soul from going astray.
My steps once led with a corrupted band;
We ran the streets where bullets ripped the night;
I know the cell and the cold and empty hand.
Despised and homeless,lost in my own land,
You kept me safe,allowed a second sight;
Now bear with me,I kneel to understand.
My heart turned cold to kindness freely shown;
I trod down paths of malice and strife,
And left behind a bitter seed I'd sown.
For what I did,let justice take its own;
I failed to amend my wasted,harmful life,
And now,with shattered pride,I stand alone.
Stripped of all pride,my hollow heart is bare;
Emptied of self,I know that you are right,
Bear with me,Lord,upon my lonely way
What does it mean to live a finite, fragile life in an infinite, indifferent universe? ~ Prof. Brian Cox.
As the Moon rises in the east
barely showing its face above the horizon
the Penumbral Eclipse takes form
heralding the full weight of the time
a new Shadow was about to be cast over me.
Dark has cloaked my deeds up until now.
The Blood Moon enchants with its splendour
and ultimately the reflected light from the Sun
is embraced by illuminated corners of my heart—
subdued, as it reflects tentative forgiveness
rewarding me for changing my ways.
I’m set in my ways.
I yearn for unconditional forgiveness
of the ingrained dark corners of my heart—
reflecting my own perception of me.
A Blood Moon stirs fear in the heart
as my darkly disturbing thoughts reveal secrets.
Old shadows are difficult to cast off—
taunted by the recall of lighthearted times.
When the Penumbral Eclipse faded
remorse latched onto the dark side
of the moon on its arc to set in the west.
Boldly colored days each Fall give hope
that a new beginning; a new season
will ease his sorrows and help him cope
with her absence, but he longs for a reason.
Life meant nothing. Often, people queried
his state of mind and wished him the best.
He always looked gaunt and rather wearied.
With his wife's whereabouts, he was obsessed.
Daily, Edward felt grief heighten inside
his heart, wondering how he could've been blind,
and why in him she felt she couldn't confide.
Never, to his beloved had he ever been unkind.
Lurid, mysterious notes only provided quandaries
that left him more confused than he was before.
He'd never suspected there had been boundaries
between them. The look of remorse he sadly wore.
I felt as small as a winter’s flower
yet as tall as an old oak tree
the seconds dragged on for what seemed like hours
when my world turned in on me
the cloak I wore was of little comfort
just to bridge between present and past
I held onto this and other secrets
no more a peasant but a king at last
by the time I had finished speaking
the crowd erupted with applause
then towards me they were reaching
as the judgment came into force
the mask was meant to protect me
from what no one should have seen
a noose was placed just oh so gently
I thought it was a bit extreme
I sank into the grain that supported
absorbed deep in the fibres below
my legs gave way it was reported
I wriggled until they let me go.
Like ghosts in my pockets, weighing me down,
burdens echoing with quiet sorrow,
coiling tight around the soul in silent pain.
Some weights like umbrellas cast aside after storms,
others iron shackles, rusted, locked in permanence—
all carried unseen, but deeply felt.
Knots in the spine, scars engraved on the mind,
tangled threads, riotous roots of clinging shadows—
held tight, wrapped in sorrow and guilt.
The weight of unspoken words,
unfinished tasks, unkept promises,
and unmanageable memories—
all soaked deep in regret.
Letting go is not an option
when remorse is all you have,
and anguish your only friend.
Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these ‘it might have been’—John Greenleaf Whittier
without deep regret
apologetic parrot ~
squawks m
i n d racked a
n
g
u i s h
and so words not said
like rusty nails through my palms
glare crimson, ablaze
If desert-lands of remorse can be crossed ahead, enough,
Cage deemed as open sky, if my wings can be spread, enough.
Yon, when the winking sky is found willing to welcome me,
If just half-closed window can be all-ajar made, enough.
To set foot-tracks on hills, for long remaining a pipe dream,
If just its tracks drawn on a map can I well tread, enough.
Rather than getting clogged on polluted past memories,
If with the breath of caprice my lungs can be fed, enough.
Not so fair to foul destiny’s fame, though found notorious,
If summons be sent to the ill choices I made, enough.
Who’s appellant and advocate? Who’s witness and the judge?
When curtains raised, if I can prove my acting grade, enough.
Impressing sky if I can just get my wings spread, enough,
Leaving hind all regrets if I can walk ahead, enough.
________________________________________
Ghazal |14.03.2025 |
Note: Inspired, a Gujarati poem by Dr Neelee Desai, no translation:
Just how much courage does it take?
To stick to the plan that I’d made
And why should I be afraid?
To live my own destined fate
When all I could do is hate
All the things that I have said
Can’t I just stay in the bed?
With no sorrows and no regret
But the image of it in my head
Keeps on replaying until the end
Grief is an earthquake, sudden and unforgiving,
Splitting the ground beneath your feet,
Turning the familiar into fractured ruin.
It shakes the foundations of who you are,
Toppling memories like crumbling buildings,
Leaving nothing but dust where laughter once stood.
Aftershocks linger in the quiet moments,
A tremor in your chest, a crack in your voice.
You try to rebuild, but the landscape has changed-
The world tilts differently without them in it.
Some days, you step forward, thinking the worst has passed,
Only to stumble as the earth quivers once more,
A song, a scent, a whispered name-
And suddenly the fault lines widen,
Swallowing you whole in a moment’s collapse.
Times move on, but the wreckage remains,
Slowly, painfully, you clear the rubble,
Learning to build around the gaps,
Knowing the scars will never fade,
But hoping, one day, the ground will hold steady again.
And as the years pass, you realize-
No matter how many walls you raise,
Or how many roads you pave over the broken earth,
You are still standing in the ruins of what once was,
Waiting for a home that will never be rebuilt.
Of all those memories that come around,
each with boundless beauty or fond remorse,
yours flood frenzied dreams with troubling abound
of all those memories
My mind, muddled, alters its centered course.
Your voice echoes with its hypnotic sound
as I fervently flail, seeking the source.
With desperate hope, lost memories found,
my senses stricken with electric force,
I sharply slump into muted astound
of all those memories.
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