The fields of pain
Errors and faults in words and lines
letters like mistakes in wordless
lines
sentences break losing harmony
revealing end of friendship forever.
When sense become hard and useless
when mind frets; truth unknown
“what a pain this human life
a cursed fate to nibble the grief.”
Letters form the destined nests
the smouldering questions; purpose plain
The final dusk of sins of life
with bleeding thoughts in cranial
nerves.
The merciless days and nights
the pathways devoid of travelers
the midnights which devour
the supper of silent truth.
The thoughts of starless night
the sights seen by pale days
the agony of waves to hug the shore
the ache of ocean for roar of waves.
Shivering, paining human life’s
unfulfilled aim and me
fell and rolled in sins and virtues
of lives and lives and lives.
I learnt that human life
is the oxygen of soul
I saw all the fourteen heavens
when sorrows ripped my mind.
Welcomed the sobs of aching heart
with affection and love
loved I the wounding grief so much
loved it ever and always
Grievances transmuted into tales
termites eaten wasted words
in the meadows of pain I will
seed the hurting seeds again
Upon the threshold of distress’s
hut
which humans abhor ever
I will sit with wide open eyes
unaware of day and night.
“My dreams will be in my chest
as my helpers, as my friends
the smolders glowing even in deluge
will sit with me there forever.”
I will sit on cloud nine
seeing seedlings grow and yield
closing eyes I will weep unintended
while harvesting and gauging pain
I will clean the dripping tears
concealing from others
loved I the wounding grief so much
loved it ever and always.
Dear mother, the first letters of my
life are
the fields of three harvests
the field of paining soul, the legacy,
the offering of my father.
