How I wish
I could resurrect myself
sledging memory
into my past
glomerulous of my stay on earth
sans body and mind
luring many more
to fest
upon the nullification
of birth and death
breeding their ground here
© Tapeshwar Prasad
I stand a walrus
on an arid land
of my creativity
as polar ice melts, further
aggravating the situation
to its irredeemable past.
I am now
a calcified weed
over my green plankton, past;
All freshwater naivety
that I boasted off
in words and sentences of my muse
among the shoals
are being harpooned
for a hungry take
in blood and bones
Even now
this landscape is assembling
wreckage of my past
with gusto;
as if someone has risen
in all hallowness
to the breaking voice of dusky silence;
settling its score
stillness –
as hills rises, and
the dark air
from the viper mouth;
all is getting less and less human
as more and more wind, breezes
to blow
from my buried past
By continuing to use the site, you agree to the use of cookies. more information
The cookie settings on this website are set to "allow cookies" to give you the best browsing experience possible. If you continue to use this website without changing your cookie settings or you click "Accept" below then you are consenting to this.