Allegorical romance

It turned out to be a beautiful day after all,
The ghastly dark clouds seem to bow down to the glorious rays of the Sun,
Charming rain only appearing as serene drizzle,
Over the land of nostalgia and leisure;
Whereas the Sun blushes over the presence of the lovers,
Who tend to fall in love more in this allegorical romantic weather.

The sky sincerely illuminates the land,
Where the humble trees find this gesture, graceful and grand;
We tend to feel more compassionate,
Illuminating with love- the world of hate;
How can one not fall in love with this graceful nature's gesture?
How can one not be compassionate to the loyal creature?

These genuine feelings of appreciation and compassion,
Idolatrous in every humanistic way, are the only solution.
This is the power of graceful weather,
Creating Poets and Writers, each one a healer;
As the Sun softly sets, with every word trying to enhance,
The love between the weather and the writers and the poets, become a true Allegorical romance.
 
Jan 20, 2016
#HappyInternationalPoetryDay
 

Beautiful Insanity

I walked a mile away from you,
But your memories followed me through;
I did my best to hide,
But you were the last thing I could avoid;
I thought of replacing you with someone capable,
But then I realized you were irreplaceable;
I tried to mingle with those around me,
With due respect, 
I felt like I was drowning in a spiteful sea;
Then I sat with a paper and a pen,
That made me pour out my feelings for you like an incredible rain;
Some might even say, 
This poetry is a showcase of vanity,
But little do they know, 
Being in love with you is a beautiful insanity.
 

Lost

Then suddenly it hit her,
The gushing blow she felt, cruel power,
Her heart shattered all over again;
How can she let this happen?
How can she forget her heart was too fragile?

The pain she could no longer bear,
She drowned herself in her own tears,
She lost herself in her own painful scream,
She couldn't recognize nightmare from a dream;
Nor could she recognize what pain was any more,

With all the grave scars, she bore.
There She was lying on the cold floor,
With broken heart, love became just another folklore;
The pain lingered long after her tears had dried,
Her fiery sunny soul had grudgingly died,
With broken shards of her heart and her painful moan,
In the depths of darkness, she was again, left alone.

 

My Reason

Sometimes when I am too tired of missing you, 
Yet I long for your presence, I ask myself:
"Do you miss me like I do?
Are you going through what I am going through?
Or has it become easier for you to forget me?"
 I have no clue.
Do you have the answers to make my heartache a bit less?
I guess, you are the reason for my happiness and the reason for my pain!

#Dec20,2015
 

The Skater Boy

They call me Skater boy,
But these wheels on this board are anything but a toy;
You see, I was born without legs,
Thrown into a city like a thoughtless garbage.

I finally found my way to move around,
Through this skate, forever bound;
I have these wheels for feet,
Trying to make my ends meet;
These wheels take me places,
Though I wish to walk for once, maybe not for ages;
Oh, how I wish to run,
Being able to walk, now wouldn't that be fun?

I move among the big vehicles,
Hoping not to get run over like those bloody dogs;
When I see you walk and run,
My heart cries for my legs, long gone;
Why was I born this way?
Was I born this way just to end up begging all day? 
I am seen by the weary dogs of the street,
And yet, I am invisible to the ones who could help me.

Nobody knows my story,
Nobody knows I exist, such is human glory;
If you ever come across me,
Try to talk to me and make me believe again in humanity.

I roll on and disappear among the blind crowd,
Above me hangs despicable cloud,
Maybe I don't exist to you,
Here I am living, among the few;
But these wheels give me a feeling of existence;
Existence of a Skater boy, life's cruel essence!

 

The Harsh Cold Night

The harsh cold night crawls in,
Dragging behind the lazy fog, an old man's gin; 
The stars are blinded by,
Nowhere to see, Nowhere to sigh.

An age-old tree surrenders without a fight,
For it knows well than to mock the night;
The rivers, the lakes and the oceans are as still as silence,
For they know the blinded stars make a cruel sense.

The flickering fire in a molded wood,
The cozy warmth in tattered gloves of wool,
Stares with burning fear,
As the cold dark night draws near.

The night swallows the land of green,
Spreading unnatural fear with such keen;
A mother and a father hugs their children,
Fighting fear and gruesome cold of the grim night,
Oh, but in vain!
As the Death grieves in their name. 
#February 21, 2016

The Great Old Oak Tree

The Great Old Oak Tree was kind,
Towards her feathery tenants that could fly,
Furry tenants that could hide,
Two legged-tenants that under her shed, would confide.

The Great Old Oak Tree was as strong,
As the promise made by a little girl in her song,
As the brave warrior who fought the wrong,
As the crazy lovers who loved each other for so long. 

The Great Old Oak tree was everything,
A place of prairie for lovers to sing,
A cozy home for calm creatures who'd bring,
Happiness and a world full of serene.
-5th March 2016