Monday, November 9, 2009

Mends of Motion..

With his strangled rigours and pain..
A life started to crawl up this street
His thought creeps past his silent solitude..
And he fails to pause in the midway..
He knows he had to fall
He wishes he could mend a fault..
But he can't fly..
There was a halt to heal the passion..
Still there was a dream to steer a function...
A function
driving his soul (to) run back...
down the street through the weeping boulevard..

And then he feels he is on the top....
He dares to stare down the street
The still breeze waved him back..
And he dived down to flee..
He turned his fate,and he played with a ploy..
to mend the things never to lose n cry..
The soul of a saint cries in delight
The lonely life beams again...


And then,

The still breeze started to blow....
The glimmering sunbeam started to shiver...
Still the life can't turn back...
This motion rushed back to stall,
There, the life stands still..
He can't move for a while...
Now the thoughts,brooding over the sky..
"Where to fly...
where to find..
Ain't I sleeping by now?
Ain't I stuck in this motion?
or I'm so free today..
There ain't a darkness to play!"

6 comments:

Sayandeep Kundu said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Sayandeep Kundu said...

these are only the words i had to choose here to portray his thoughts in form of a little poem or something quite similar to a poem..
he is no one but one of my dearest pals.. sagar da..
his thoughts sometimes make you face the real war of conscience..and i like this battle.. or rather this war of a wandering conscience...i think we r too much bothered 'bout our conscience..but that's the way we r.

Sagarnil said...

I am very touched sayan.but i think that may a debatable topic whether this is a battle or not.On one hand,maybe we secretly somewhat cherish our thoughts,and r somewhat arrogant about it.It makes us wonder whether we r really something we portray ourselves to be.On the other how many does?we do.That's why we r somewhat ahead in the path of discovering ourselves than those who doesn't.We dare....

Sayandeep Kundu said...

this doubt that we r pretending things is the fruit of our conscience..it's the conscience .. the inner self that asks u if u r trying to pretend to put on the veil of fame...

Sayandeep Kundu said...

but definitely i do also feel sometimes that we silently cherish n take pride in our thoughts on conscience...."our shadow goes past our vision"
but that should not be the end of a glimmering sunshine.. that should not be the end of the hope...

and yeah.. when the shadow is on the rise..the sun silently sleeping...i like that crimson more than anything else amongst all possible forms of celestial beauty..

Quintessence Of Illusion said...

Your style of representing your inner conflicts......ya conscience....ya discovery of ya actual self......n the constant battle with your Id and your super-ego.......reminds me of Stephen Dedalus/.....the main protaganist in Portrait Of The Artist As a Young Man