Speckled dusty bits of the horizon
Agonize behind the bars of their prison;
Freedom is their tainted tint,
Bonded forever with the shackles of the wind.
A pitch black pitcher, hollow and clean,
A pitch black hollow, no matter how clean;
Meaningless without a fluid, and yet,
Majestic pride swells its thorny chest.
Fields, deserts, mountains and seas
Scream in the vacuum among moving trees;
Silent words only ghosts can hear,
And shadows looming around in fear.
Who are you? He questions me again.
Oh! the quest for the answers insane!
With a shudder, the weeping of a thousand souls
Wakes me to face the volatile world.
I love the rhyme scheme(A,A,B,B). I also loved the way your lines contradicts the previous. The poem does describe the confused state of our mind, hoping to decide between the ever existing two options.
ReplyDeleteThese are my thoughts, you may have other things in mind while writing it. Nevertheless its a wonderful piece to read. Good Job !!!
Every poem of yours has a part that blows my mind. "A pitch black pitcher....swells its thorny chest" it is for this one. I could perceive it in so many different ways!
ReplyDeleteIt's brilliant in its entirety!