Friday, 22 April 2016

R.I.P.





To lie down on uncut grass
Resting under the shade of a tree
Savouring  a few moments of leisure
When my weary soul is wanton and free.

Isolated from the sea of humanity
Away from the cacophony of voices
A crooning cuckoo, somewhere around
The rustling of leaves - the only noises.

A canopy of clouds, a gentle breeze
A few showers of rain to follow
Filling up the pores of my empty life
Withered, sunken and essentially hollow.

No friend to love, no foe to hate
For solitude and peace, I crave
A mirage, a distant dream it seems
I guess, will have to wait for my grave.

                                              (Anurag)







No comments:

Post a comment