Old

They shine on her face,
the innumerable paths she treaded upon
Stories they do tell,
Left unbothered and finished some
The skin is no longer taut
Bones creaking like ancient doors
the noise of battles she had fought

She said she hated being so…
Hated this point so low,
Scarier than the finale
Why did life had to be so?
Pale, fuzzy and slow?
the glory left far behind
The faint flicker of the dying flame
just before the end could claim…

Crinkles on her face she sees,
just superficial they are,
Beneath…
the soul’s unblemished
as smooth as youth of its own
The wings, still strong
as if freedom just born,
Heart still flutters,
humming to the lost tunes,
reminiscing tales
of what she had left behind,
to be with time…
And the years had inevitably sailed…

If only the mirrors didn’t lie,
If only the minds didn’t judge
If time didn’t define life
Perceptions so superficial
could instead die
If only she could wear her soul
Heads would turn for want of more
Now she’s just another story
Once done, would be told
If only she still seemed so
What she saw with her eyes closed…

Hopelessness

(in a COVID patient’s mind)
Sirens filling the air
That’s already crowded,
with fear and despair
Mornings don’t bring glory
Shadowed they are by night’s stare
I squint beyond the grays,
A silver lining perhaps,
Or just a speck of hope’s desperate want
Of getting there…

I wish to sleep
Through the long waiting hours
To get to the other side
Of the incessant wails
Of the thickening dark
Cries of help or a deafening quiet
My eyelids so heavy
Do I shut them now…?
What if they don’t open again?
What if they don’t see the dreadful mornings anymore?

Spring in Us

Let us walk in the woods, my da’ling…
As the swallows gather the twigs
The Magnolias would flower anytime now,
Blossoms sprouting in places so barren
The woodpeckers’ busy pecking the bough

The gravel looks forward to be treaded…
after the lonesome winter chills
I can hear the thicket singing to the wind
refuge for our wandering minds

The birdsongs are back…
Rejoice they would, in the colours of May,
Let us walk in the woods, my da’ling…
While the shine lasts and the sun smiles…
Together let us be…in the times of spring…

Faces

There are shutters around
clicking my life for their album
I pretend and play
Perfect pose for them sometimes,
or perhaps none…

Caged am I,
Restricted by what they eye,
What they see, what they derive…
Should I sometimes show
what my expressions hide?
Or be fit for the camera,
Played my own devise…

I Don’t Fit…Yet…

Happy faces crowding the party
Popping up like corns
In a sea of humans
My imagination, is it?
Going wild…
For distance is what I see
Between faces and minds
And places where I want to be

Eyelids carry the weight
As the past slips away
But I grip the norms
Stories of yore I long to say
Believe, sometimes I don’t
Was it me, you, we in a role play?
Or another life of someone
Whom we won’t get to know

Sanity, I try to clutch
As bucket lists head to the grave
Alone…lonesome…reluctant
Submissive…kneeling down to fate
Questions, I have many
Why, what if, what next
I try to cling to what’s left
To this crowded world with happy faces
on and on…
It stays….