Me
And my aspirations
Speculated though
Sputtering candle-wicks
That dimly burn
Would brighten with haste
Withering frustrations
Proclaim – the death for the earthly
Is inevitable…
The used up wishes
Hovering afloat
After- burners unkindly spent
The cimmerian bleakness
Accompanies
The blank nothingness spared…
Still remains there something
Does refrain from vanishing;
May kindle itself on
Out ranking the oblivion!
The inane self whispers
What neglected be done
Dejecting the re-mimicking thoughts
Of addicted ‘perhaps’ and ‘if only’…
Yes, deep from the vastness
They do grimace
Starring light-jets
Neither any ‘perhaps’
Nor any ‘if only’.
A rather extensive poetic examination of what might be termed ” ennui “.
It is laced with a self-deprecating,mordant humour which elevates this
work above the reader’s quotidian expectations.
Yes, Louis Kasatkin, you observed it right that the usual weariness of the present times has forced to give this poetic approach to the resentment , I do agree. But I am not yet sure whether the trauma is fully expressed.
Thank you for a thorough reading.