Even as whispers contrive gossip,
The broken emotions stir a strength.
The tampered tiles of self-belief,
Fill the gaps and seize brows of marked worry.
The rickety wheels of an forgotten era
Turn once more and again and again,
Even as windmills of current, swirl
In the whimsical breezes of a timeless flow.
The land tilled by sweat and planted,
Poses a still before it fissures, breaks
And is blown away as crumbled wishes
Into the black eyes of a passing stranger.
The perfidious roads sudden throw a bump,
Even as the wicked curves of certain tarmac
Lay await for the gilded souls to enter the
Service roads from a forgotten village.
The puffed waters crash with a fury,
As if all the world's problems they carry
Are smitten loaded on to rocks whose
Knees creak a bit more under the gush.
The tide awakens and dreams,
Unhindered by need, want or thirst,
Into the shores, malign with force
Begot from meditation under the dark moon.
Clock towers vindicate and strike,
A second more and another and another
Tick by oblivious to the drunk men
Who lean aside on its port side.
The trains bound on tracks,
Carry the burden of generations
To places far away, unknown-
Those that cannot be found on the horizon.
As the sun sets behind a veil of evening clouds,
The stars of every hopeless night, shine bright,
Telling tales of the dedication, which they too had
For the universe and the worlds they served.
And as the lighthouse comes on to guide
The mariners of past, present and future,
The waves eat the sands once more
And carve the rocks yet again.
The vendors selling pirated glasses
And empty sea shells with the sound of oceans,
Gibe at the world with faithless smirks
Deep embedded in unknown fantasies.
On a morrow a stream is to be born,
Through the rocks of hard fate,
Feeding birds of prey, leading,
Flowing into the ocean of faith.
The Light Shines The Brightest
The broken emotions stir a strength.
The tampered tiles of self-belief,
Fill the gaps and seize brows of marked worry.
The rickety wheels of an forgotten era
Turn once more and again and again,
Even as windmills of current, swirl
In the whimsical breezes of a timeless flow.
The land tilled by sweat and planted,
Poses a still before it fissures, breaks
And is blown away as crumbled wishes
Into the black eyes of a passing stranger.
The perfidious roads sudden throw a bump,
Even as the wicked curves of certain tarmac
Lay await for the gilded souls to enter the
Service roads from a forgotten village.
The puffed waters crash with a fury,
As if all the world's problems they carry
Are smitten loaded on to rocks whose
Knees creak a bit more under the gush.
The tide awakens and dreams,
Unhindered by need, want or thirst,
Into the shores, malign with force
Begot from meditation under the dark moon.
Clock towers vindicate and strike,
A second more and another and another
Tick by oblivious to the drunk men
Who lean aside on its port side.
The trains bound on tracks,
Carry the burden of generations
To places far away, unknown-
Those that cannot be found on the horizon.
As the sun sets behind a veil of evening clouds,
The stars of every hopeless night, shine bright,
Telling tales of the dedication, which they too had
For the universe and the worlds they served.
And as the lighthouse comes on to guide
The mariners of past, present and future,
The waves eat the sands once more
And carve the rocks yet again.
The vendors selling pirated glasses
And empty sea shells with the sound of oceans,
Gibe at the world with faithless smirks
Deep embedded in unknown fantasies.
On a morrow a stream is to be born,
Through the rocks of hard fate,
Feeding birds of prey, leading,
Flowing into the ocean of faith.
The Light Shines The Brightest
