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Posts Tagged ‘fate’

Until there is a wind that has touched
The sea, the oak, the leaves of a forest
So green with hues of spring or yellow
Of an autumn morning, you will not settle,
You will not succumb among pastoral hymns.
You will but fly beyond, for the light is life.
You are not heavy like our hearts, or tricks
Traverse you in torn down robes of past.  

It’s easy not to untangle your journey,
For you have travelled through history,
Through the meandering moon-lit stream
Of love, of hope, of despair and glory.
Wish my soul could join you and dream
Through the pages filled by your story,
And stand near the swans again for peace.
Like my masters say to pick you is to speak
To an unending sky that has enough air.
The feather so light, so untouched, unheard,
Can guide me to my stars and my prayer.

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It is tough indeed to be innocent;
To follow the petals in summer breeze,
To whisper through first rain drops,
To gather autumn leaves alone,
And to render warmth in a cold world.

There is hunger, there is thirst.
There is an unending war everywhere.
There is no faith among crowded eyes.
But river to river speak of a sea,
Where no meaning is mild or moans.
We will stand together forever
To make all our lives inspire.

A rose, a smile, a simile with humour
Can turn the pebbles unturned.
As glaciers perform in sturdy summer;
Melting existence, intellect unlearned.
Why fight for symbols that are sold?
Why bathe in rivers that are lost?

We will now learn though late.
We are the makers of our fate.

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Now that we talk and teach
Each other to remain in peace,
Each one filling the other’s dream;
There is a heart that listens
To the beats of this night stream.

Now not like a priest or a pope,
We can dare to cleanse this soul
As the virtue of our kind is to sail
Through odds of the fate we carve.
We will together dream again
Of the utopia that never exists.

When we meet, will surely greet
With baffled and bleeding hearts
That suffered in these dark years.
We will stare each other for long,
And then may pretend to treat.
But our eyes will gleam with tears.

Neither we nor our fate knows
Where will we settle after now?
But wherever there will be thirst
There will be a dream to quench.

Why after some dream we weep?
We succumb and yearn for the end?
Why breathe in this deserted drape?
And remain speechless while we bend?

Like Life, death too is a journey.

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I will make way for you; I will arise and go,
Among countryside men and women;
I hear the symphony so silent, so pure.
What have I lost, and gained in this war?
I stand now with corpses here and there,
Scattered like vermillion on the floor.
I see the musician playing flute so soft,
And surreal strokes under the dead moon,
I see an old cavern with light from heaven.

I searched for gothic gods in this desert,
A woman and byzantine gold so embraced;
There is no oasis in these dreams but hurt
My heart with pain and long love laced.

A Sun as bright as if no need for a second,
A road so long as will turn a river full of tears.
I listened to the furls of the girdle so wild.
In winter this desert will be cold at night,
With no creatures but the serpent’s hiss.
I am unfolding this journey now or never,
To see what tomorrow unfolds in light.

After countless steps this journey doesn’t end,
But just changes its meaning now to mend
The woes of the soul, these occurrences so wild.
Let me stand for a while and pray my stars,
My God that has not lost hope in my tears,
And my chiselled fate from here to guide.
This odyssey will remain now on stones,
To guide all souls that has covered miles
Of agony, anguish and admired smiles.

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There are enough trumpets to blow
In this forlorn land of muses;
Enough lyrics stand idle to be sought
And ancient rhythms of melody flow.
There is no crowd of solitude here
And no wandering eyes moaning.
There is no dream here to come
And no thought to end with tear.

Emptied hearts and burdened souls
Now fill the curtains and not rise
From the trivial tests of fate.
I have seen a fiddler in the meadow
Now having stood for long to play
And journey with my eternal song.
And a pianist with shivering fingers
Beside the lake filled with Mozart,
Stands unheard among country tulips.

These are all but tinges of the last hope
That glimmers through autumn winds
And journeys through unpaved paths.
Let time heal all to make this great song.
This world is a great orchestra to witness;
A great symphony of undying faith binds
As I have to sing because am the song.

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The world is like an oyster
In deep sea that has seen storms;
And we people covered with nacre.
There is no patience among our kind,
There is no dream for the pearl.

There is great dazzle and shine,
For the courage to wait and see.
But our kind is just tough to witness
And seldom listen to the guiding tree.

Patience makes the life in the oyster
Turn into an ever shining pearl.
Our race is for being a witness
And judge not the passing time
But to dream for being valued.
It is better to stay beside the reefs
Six fathom deep and wait for fate
And time to catch than get lost
In the weeds and towering algae.

With time the strongest shield cracks
And the bright truth prevails.
After me child to child will sing this
As our ship of faith and hope sails.

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