hurt i was and i am still
seeing that
all that i had prayed for
all that i wanted
all that i needed
the things that i wanted to go in my way
had never gone that way
all that happened
was always an opposite to me!
the rose that i’d dreamt for was plucked away by myself
the one that left me bleeding when i tried to just ask it for myself
but just laid there
waiting to be taken
when i’d come there
again for someone else
it went a way that other dreamt of
all open to them of which.. i became an instrument!
doing what they said
giving what they asked
while keeping myself quiet but weeping and cursing myself
how more would i take looking at myself
breaking away with a mind and heart equally dead now watching itself
picking away the roses it wanted
for someone else
the same rose that pricked n literally wounded it when it put forth its hand
praying whether it could have been its own
but i woke up
feeling that i’d recovered from it all
feeling that i could smile again
thinking it was all over
i felt that i’d indeed grown up
from what i was before
like what some say is to be mature!
i lived again…
although… for others..
trying to find my happiness by seeing them smile.
the heart was still tender with hope
but changes didnt come for me always!
because again i fell
for what i thought
was a birth in love again
but then was lost
the day i felt
was the only day
i was completely good
the day that pulled me down
from the happiness i felt with the time i had just spent looking at her
frail was the heart
that had heard a refuse before
but dead and cold it felt
when history repeated again
only to victimise myself
all again and again
it seemed as if life said
and forced me to live
and believe that my stay in this world
was only to fulfill the purpose
for what others dreamt of
living a life of servant
though everyone called me a friend
thinking i was still a fool unaware
of bein dragged like a rag doll
hearing to other’s sorrows
working it out for them
while all i could do for myself
was to bear the heavy burden
which kept growin in the heart!
now all that remained was
a heart marked all with despair
for itself, yet alive.
working out itself
for a smile to be put
on the faces of those who looked at it
with respect, seein it as a young mentor
when it still lived a life so worn out.
now all what the heart needs
what it still waits for
is the time
when the imagined awaited silence would come
a warm one, a bright one
the serene one
that would come and close its eyes
to find its peace, its eternal peace
somewhere unknown!
