Friday, January 3, 2014


Picture courtesy:

We dance across

Continents and time

Death and time,

The love story of humankind

A tale told

Since the beginning of man

The death of time

The death of man

On tiptoes

I dance to the sounds of my time

I am afraid of awakening

Ghosts of yesterday’s plans

Waylaid on

Highways that used to come here

Stillborn schemes,

Pipedreams with no pipes to dream

As days and months

Have intercourse

Several years are born

Between erasers, pencils and pens.

Out of time, I pass on

Between tick-tock and chimes

Greatness has been aborted

It was not carried to term

Mortality haunts me

Humanity mocks me

Death sits and laughs

Gleefully awaits the end of time

My time is near

Greyed out, I’m all out of years

I bury my life

Stillborn and expired

Old and weak

I fall asleep on my silver hair

As the sun and moon embrace

Slowly, I walk into the light

A funeral party of one

and so many tears

I shed tears

My tears are in tears

The hall is packed

My tears came with tears

Time the victor

Time the villain


The victim of my time.

Stories untold

Undreamt dreams

All too soon

It is the end of time.

No comments:

Post a Comment