Solitude has become his solid nature of existence.
A solitary rock stands aloof and alone on the shores
of memories, Years and years have passed on his way
still, lives fresh in the mind of the time as a towering edifice.
The World has been passing through an incessant infinite flow of time
Each moment is an event, recorded in the history of the world.
A molten ball from the spittle of sun, planet earth was born
The fluid of fire became firm and cooled in the ocean of time
Oceans and continents formed from the wishes of God
slowly life ticked through the metamorphosis of evolution.
Planet earth was ruled by many generations of creatures
dinosaur’s era to the modern twenty-first-century rulers
wisdom dawn on human beings, they took over the world
The man became a social animal and created social reforms.
Created religions and rules for peaceful living in the society.
Renaissance and reformation took place, art, and architecture
Dictators, kings and emperors, autocrats and, fascists
All those who had ruled never lasted forever
They all have disappeared in the dustbin of history.
My rocky mind witnessed revolutions, world wars, holy wars,
Now an intellectual warfare is going on in the modern time
People are divided on basis of caste, creed, color, and religion
Rich exploits the poor for the gains and greedy of wealth,
trying to kill each other, destroy the world with nuclear warfare.
I know even this will pass, I am a silent observer, I know the future
when you create a nuclear winter by the stupidity of craziness,
I will be here to last and witness the frostbitten world of debris
Will watch you motionless and stare into infinity emotionless
My silence will record everything of past present and future
I am the historian of the events of time with an ink of smile
An introspective poem filled with riveting imagery and thought-provoking reflections.
Thank you sir, very much for kind read and very valuable comment
An intriguing work that rapidly dissolves in its overlong structure which diminishes not only its value but ultimately distracts the reader from the work’s intended impact.
Thank you very much for your kind read and wise comment
A poem that reminds one at one level of Shelley’s ‘ Ozymandias ‘ and at another of Walt Whitman’s ‘Leaves of Grass ‘