Monday, September 26, 2011


I watch the sea of life…
Break on the shores of eternity
And, I watch the endless parade…
Of lives without meaning

And, I cry…
Waiting, for the tears to be heard
While, I search for words
In the sunshine-less streets of the world

Somewhere, there is a saga
Of memories…and quicksand
Of forgotten words in dusty bylanes
Of stories untold

I bid adieu…I lose myself
To join the crowd, yet not be a part
To be torn apart…just to be whole again
Time it is…for being heard

I sing…the unsung songs
Carrying the voice of unheard throngs
I fly and fall…I flow and ebb…
With the hungry tides eating my soul


Panchali said...

Anguish can give you that rude, rough desperateness to be heard, to be listened to...patiently, to be given a chance. But then, why should one work so hard for something that everyone deserves? To be heard.. to be seen, paid attention...just a bit. Does that lead to anguish again? Maybe that is a rhetoric...

Honeybee said...

"To be torn apart…just to be whole again"

I agree to what Panchali said... Whats the point? Is it not enough to have one listener, just that one... What good is it to be seen by plenty and understood by none?
But for that one, I guess its worth the wait. For she could fill the pain with so much affection that one might wish to invite that anguish again in greed of the care...

Just a perspective... :)