Posts Tagged ‘loneliness’

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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Time is cruel that it doesn’t return
Nor does it feel when the heart breaks.
With leaves wandering among weeds
Seldom there is an echo that breaks.
We will not love again nor will dream;
The faith that grows like an oak
And falls from the tall beautiful cloak.

Somewhere near we will see again
The mundane eyes with tears filled.
And someone whispering in the ears,
All will but change so where does it end?
Then a soul will stand, another will follow.

The caverns of time will guide
And gentle breeze will heal.

The hoofs still beat and hunger stands
Alone on this strand deserted for long.
There is light and there is darkness.
There is an eternal war to face within.
There is peace in an unknown song,
When melodies flap and ever embrace
All monuments of race and empty hands.

Someday on this acre of green grass
With dew filled Tulips swinging
A soul will meet its soul and pass
The baton of love and care.
Then there is no anguish and pain,
No dream that is butchered,
No wish that enters dark wheels
And no moment that stands still.

Is that what we call death?
Is that the end of all desire?

Flame beside flame will make way
For this luminance that will stay.
All clouds will clap and move,
All stars will now fall in love.
From the furnace I have come
With no tattered piece in hand.
These eyes have closed long before
But the vision within still sees;
The flowers of childhood still fresh,
The fragrance that still echoes.
The robe is now clean and furls
The soul of mine to journey
Through these known woods of rose.

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