Category: Written in 2022

Vortex

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia1 Comment

As I look into the world today,
I see a dark vortex,
Revolving around words,
Created by those
Who say they understand god.

I see this whirlpool,
Filtering through time
And wars and blood and despair.
It darkens, as it weaves
A symbiotic relationship,
Between the follower
And the leader
And the one with hope.

A hope for a better future,
Probable and passionate,
For the existential quest
To find the meaning to life.

Though the dreamers say,
Love should be the answer,
It becomes too simple,
Even for the simplest person
To understand and partake.

So the vortex eddies
And, maybe this time,
It shall consume the world.

Or maybe, not.

For there will always be some
Who will hope,
And can love.

Wrinkle

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia1 Comment

The young smile has not aged now
And most times I tend to forget
The stains in the teeth and the breath
Leftover by a smoking cigarette.

For how can youth be flawed?
By default, his skin is tight
His body throbs higher abd faster
Through the caverns of night.

Age might sound wise and true
And it may even look better
But life’s lessons has it tired
And dried up eyes don’t get wetter.

Lines shall come around the mouth
They may shade and cover the eyes
It all comes at a price that says
Everything that lives sometime dies.

Youth and age sometime fall in love
And for the love to last through time
As age looks beyond each stain
Youth must disregard each line.

47

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia6 Comments

The day is here
Of my 47th year;
Friends and family smile,
As I beguile
Them in to believing
(Maybe deceiving)
That all is well.
If they can tell
I am done,
With all the fun,
I wonder what they’d say.
Who would truly stay?
I have come this far,
I have become a star,
Since all I do is yearn.
So now, just let me burn.