The moment escapes!
Where is time buried?
Under the dark waters of yesterday,
Or the dusty grounds of today,
Or does it flutter in the winds of tomorrow,
Dead, yet waiting to find peace?
What can be contained?
Can the air be bottled?
Can the waters be stored?
What can escape the inevitable
And be the unimaginable?
Every measure,
yards and pounds,
Are merely relative.
What is really real?
Who proposes the grammar,
And tames words into scales?
Evanescence,
The moment escapes!
For nothing can be caught
And held in a palm forever,
For the second is dead as
It is born, being alive,
A state of momentary infiniteness.
The jungle of thoughts,
Breed till they are haunted,
By the guns and traps,
Of human need and vanity.
Time ticks the troubled tenses,
And passes matter into its varied states.
But like a perfect morning,
Nothing is real or lasts forever,
For perfection is born in repetition,
And the mind forgets the art,
Yet becomes the very creator.
Evanescence,
The moment escapes!
Everything is what you imagine.
The second you blink,
What you see sinks in.
The dirty roads leading to home,
The boulevards of your dreams,
The citadels of your grief,
The temples of your belief,
All live in your memory.
For the stone and passion,
Which went into them,
Are cemented in the past,
And like a tree grow-
One day to be felled,
When the spirit is no more held.
The ghosts escape the haunted house,
When the bulldozers hunt them down.
The evil voodoos fail to prance,
When people forget their menace.
What is future?
You can make wine,
And leave it to ferment,
You can sow the seeds,
And watch a tree.
You can savour the sea,
And pronounce it salty.
Fragments of a puzzle,
Give us a reason to believe,
That there is a picture to be.
What if the pieces aren't there?
The gaping holes, invite wrath,
Oh! worse, the weeping sound,
Of the broken hearts!
Evanescence,
The moment escapes!
For what grows can touch the sky,
For what is born has a right to life!
It all shall escape,
The day, we are truly alive!
The light shines the brightest
