Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Sweet Split

The man in gray strolls around-
On a street, so dark where nobody's found.
His humble abode abuts onto a park,-
Where hungry hounds wallow and bark.

Silently, he comes and opens the door,
And, he finds the same old dusty floor.
On the table, some piles of dirty sheets,
He snatches one and silently reads...

Some words of woes groan in greed,
Mr. Gray, puzzled to hear one bit,
Little White comes and curtly asks,
"What's the matter father? Where's my gift?"
Father grins and says,
"Let Black come and win some,
Then I'll let you pounce on it.
You know, I found some fierce dogs barking-
With lurking greed, and lashes on their ugly spirit.
I had something for both of you...
But I lost some on the dusty street."

White retorts,
"There's my brother Black, always late,
Now please unwrap whatever you have..
May be my brother is just so black,
But, both of us bear one white might."

Black interferes,
"Lend me some papers and I will read,
That's the only thing I really need."

Mr. Gray beams as he slowly unwraps..
Stares at the twins while his heart weeps.

White: "Conceit conquers as I hold one pen,
What will I do with papers of pain?
You have brought these papers for me,
These are just too white to let my thoughts flee."

Black: "Oh father! I am so glad today,-
I can write whatever I want to say.
You have brought papers for me
So bright and white they are, I will fight and see."

Father: "Both of you,-
Do things that you like.
You may let your thoughts flow on your sheet,
I will get to know by then,-
What was there in the dogs on the street?
I'm leaving home for one long week,
I'll be back and see what you really seek."

And so, Mr. Gray stealthily departs,
Walking down to the woods of firs.
He finds no fiery dog on the street,
As his whistle quavers in happy spirit.

Steadily White tries to hold one pen,
One hand shivers, as one loves to restrain.
White writes,
"Hail my spirit, so pure and white,
No evil layer without respite,
I'm here as one God's grace,
Nothing can spoil my solemn pace.
I burn with my peace, and I never let it flee,
I'm so proud that my spirit is so free.
I'm as sane as one wise sage,
I feel my thoughts transcend the wall of age.
I live on my pride, as I cease to write..
So, I finish off here,
And I rub off this trite."

Mr. White slays his ugly passion..
The flow of ink chokes in inflamed emotion..
However White tries to kill his fright,
He can not but succumb to his adamant might...
And the inked white sheet flutters in the wind...
The harsh wind of a beast's spite....

Delightful Black holds his pen,
Both hands shiver, none ready to restrain.
Black writes,
"Nail my spirit, dirty and full of fright,
Of dead divinity with my broad foresight.
Here I am as one evil pace,
Something can spoil my juvenile grace.
I cherish sorrow and let it gush out to flee,
I'm humble, and my spirit strives to live free.
I'm as insane as one noxious savage,
You feel my instincts can maul my rage.
I live on my spite, and I care my pride,
So, I start off from here,
And I concoct stories to help me write...
And, I write..
I write.."

But then, this white sheet strangles one smeared soul,
Filthy Black hires ire to howl...
However he tries to let his thoughts flow,
His burning rancor prefers to glow..
And, he can't find one deep furrow-
In a field of ration, he courts one defeat..
The lone white sheet flutters in the steel breeze of conceit.

Someone opens the door-
Enters Mr. Gray,
Both Black and White are not there,
He just finds two sheets fluttering on the floor..
His face turns somber but he is feeble no more...
He picks up two sheets, stares at the words galore..
Some words of hope, some healing one wound....
And, quickly he turns one piece of paper-
Where he leaves one final note,
"My beloved off-springs,
Gifts of my sorrow and abject instincts.
Today, I find myself in that hungry street hound-
Its gray greed lurking in my pathos profound..
When I see both of you so distinctly apart,
I figure out this haze-
And, I bark like one hound.
Today, I know barking beasts don't bite but me..
Since I let you live so terribly free..
Today, this hell turns divine,
You are just two halves of mine.
Both of you seek peace in my regime...
So, Mr. White and Mr. Black, rest in peace.
The Gray rules and others, imbecile."


Quintessence Of Illusion said...

wow.......this one goes beyond are at you creative best now.........keep up the good work

Sayandeep Kundu said...

thanks sister.. ..appreciations seem flattering..
hard to find such a thoughtful reader like u though..