An old man saga

An old man’s saga


At dusk
when twilight falls
and dyes the sky
with stygian view, and turns
the blue and white
into an orange hue;
till the darkness declares,
the night’s feasts and fears.
(surely a teasing play of Nature,
where all feelings and fears of man
are figured like in a theatre)


This often travels me back in time,
when we used to sit or thrashing around
(in such state of frenzy)
sweetly we hymned
some loving rhymes.
and the licking breeze, gently caressing your reddened cheeks)
But don’t know how and when,
we got our hearts
cracked and coiled;
and had masked our smiles.
(who cut that string and
let our passion spoiled)


Now that
all those revelries had gone
that proved our flirting wrong,
(in these yawning hours,
sitting alone by the fire
and staring at the dying embers)
i find myself, only talk to myself,
and i wish
to resurrect the past
and wed again (my heart insane)
to those mirthful sights and strains…
(what else an old man can do
on such cold, misty eve)
nothing but echoes the past.



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