Tag: Hope

Wraith

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

This year came unto me like a Wraith;
Bearing away my hope in surreal faith;
It unfolded its stygian wings
And spewed forth such ghastly things:
Cancers of different kinds,
Affecting the body, the heart, the mind,
Gods disappeared with flute and tusk,
The sun merely gazed from the gathering dusk.
Fight against the dying light, Thomas said;
But Plath was also a poet to be read.
I tried to run to the sun, catch his light,
His failure proved to be the worst of the blight,
He could do naught but be what he is
And change not a jot of how he lives.
So as the day died, he left me to night
I stopped screaming. I surrendered the fight.
Doing this brought me some clarity:
The utter darkness of wing made me see,
This wraith of Time is my constant friend,
Who doesn’t give hope, who doesn’t pretend,
Who promises not even pain to rend
Some new beginning from an old end.

The Twins.

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

Storming the brain of the mind of the twin,
Had not the measure of love that would give
Joy, nor the hurt, nor the pain that could win
All the interesting decisions to live

Flying from Worlds where Happiness lives on,
Rested in homes wherein Lust oft deceived –
Laughing and waving with him Hope had gone –
Smilingly, Life in a whisper believed:

“Lying for thee, and then pining for thee,
“Crying for all, to be happy for what?
“Vain and unkind, to be sure, thou shall be,
“Naught to the world, in quandaries caught.”

Just like the Earth, in a dream for the Sun,
Blissfully aches to unite and be one,
Hearts of the two (like the Prodigal Son)
Waiting to feel then be crushed by the ton.

Waiting and waiting, to wait is a curse,
Lasting forever like darkness of death,
Hope has been carried away in a hearse,
Gone and forgotten to never be met.

Life which follows with a staggering sway,
Breathes with the burden of living alone,
Crying in anger and begging her stay,
Losing a twin is a reason to mourn.

Looking in eyes that do kindly seem true,
Life in a dilemma is scared to be weak,
Searching for Hope in a crowd of so few,
Now, to be happy, a love she does seek.

None and Every.

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

The air begins low and then sings high,
The birds soar skyward and then swoop by.
The sun melts yellow and mellow shines,
The light shoots through and evades the pines.

Mountains loom, snow falls and water gushes
Through crags between rocks and on rushes;
The chill is duly warmed by the beams,
Heaven on earth … or so it seems …

Concrete and tar rise upward, majestic, ugly,
A cold light of their own gleaming unceasingly,
A stoic hindrance to humanity, no doubt,
A human necessity they can’t do without.

The air lacerated with darkened soot and mindless smog,
Breezes stilled, beams dimmed, breath blocked,
Desolation crawls within as do suicidal tendencies,
Life’s utter folly, its own vagrancies.

The aimless thirst for what is not to what is,
To take from another what was never his,
Lie for no reasonable and explicable cause,
To exist, to not just live, but just because.

A child’s laughter so pure, almost divine,
Leads to beauty, joy and happiness sublime.
A man’s grown chuckle so virile, so morbid,
Resembles inborn greed and all that’s sordid.

A daughter’s anguished pain and her incessant weeping,
Her father’s grin and his forced ignorance constantly creeping.
The burst of metal and fire, the end of a living thing,
Existing billions blown from being to nothing.

Though the Mother still survives and lives on,
Though the Blessed Faith carries upon
A ruthless world, Hope remains and moves
To etch within Destiny its lovely grooves.

And the sun still shines and burns bright,
Just like the stars that burn at night.
The sand still sifts as the wind sighs,
And people still cry when love dies.