They will find me at your door
sprawled in white upon your steps
when the night has gone away
sulking in the cold light of day.
Will they dare to drag me away
or pity my fate and let me stay?
See my grey tresses sweep your steps
little time before I merge into the patterns of dust.
My eyes have given up the ghost
no longer do I need to smile and crave
they will see what you have always seen
That I never chose to fall behind.
Tear the veil, a poor shroud over desires
Pull down the fence, it could never keep out the fire
Leave the bleeding gaps to gush and mourn
Love needs to flow even though you may scorn.
When they find me at your door
Know my love, I never called out to you
The words were there, the voice was mute
The wind too had forsaken a broken flute.
©Reena Prasad August 2012
Surreal and spectral references ; shroud ,veil , ghost, mourn , places the reader in a twilight of unrequited longing.Of things as they should have been but never were. The tone of the narrative voice seems ambiguous , at times plaintive and at other times insistent perhaps menacing.
Thank you Louis Kasatkin for a clear review that helped me to see my writing more clearly.
Yes, ‘insistent’ is so apt to quote Louis Kasatkin ! perhaps, so consistently so that it has a flow of it’s own.
Thank you Lokesh Roy for your feedback.