FRAGILE EXISTENCE

!!Fragile Existence!!

In the garden it sways, with flamboyance,

the flower far from its bunch.

Some were plucked, and many crushed,

their destiny to fade and hunch.

There afar stood the giant mounts,

their peak kissing the soft white sky.

Pale and barren it was quarried,

the rattling stones that stay and cry.

Far echoed sounds, the harp's pristine tunes,

and a harmony of Capella amplifies.

Silence shatters the smoky voices,

and an undertone of your cries.

Beauty descended from heavens,

it's colors so vivid and bright.

Some irked a few and some pleased many,

To us, only Black and White.

-Arun Dev Kumar

RIME OF THE APOCALYPST

RIME OF THE APOCALYPST

It came knocking one day, without a call;

Like the storm uncalled, the trap of a trawl.

Hooks like fangs that barge deep within;

Efface one and then a kin.

An isle that was once life, in ecclesiastic peace;

Where oaks were shade with flowered streets.

The clan that escalated, seized by riches;

Spoiled by greed; turned from wise to witches.

The isle, a desolate landscape ran dry;

The oak that mastered its roots now ply.

The clan, they consumed their essence;

Wretched men, they break the coalescence.

Then it came, knocking one day, without a call;

Like the storm uncalled, the trap of a trawl.

Hooks like fangs that barge deep within;

Efface one and then a kin.

An acre of gardens, once a delight;

Reared fauns, free from the brute’s sleight.

Now a barren ground of terror;

Apparitions of the ones; taken by the bearer.

A land contested by beast and prey,

None are victors but profit dismay.

And then it came, knocking one day, without a call;

Like the storm uncalled, the trap of a trawl.

Hooks like fangs that barge deep within;

Efface one and then a kin.

-ARUN DEV KUMAR.

REVENGE- A THERAPY

Revenge - a Therapy

I embarked on a journey to the tallest mount;

There was a will to conquer the heights and to be crowned.

My Head held high and eyes staring the peak;

And I made my truce with drudgery and pique.

I had been there before, as a titan I had been there before;

It enslaved me, the mount, with offers it made me implore.

A faded image of my past it was, mocking me that mount;

Deceived by flattery, the titan now a slave that surmount.

A whip of insults flaying my skin;

Left battered by wounds, of an unforgettable sin.

Uprooted me from consciousness, plunged me into oblivion;

That sly gaze, then a frown, sarcasm it did blazon.

And now it stands here again, mighty; puffed with pride;

But I tread the path not in greed of fame or to chide.

Driven by self, driven by surge, Impelling towards the peak;

A Knife’s edge it is they said, and chances are bleak.

I chose to bleed nevertheless;

So, let it end this way, I shall not fade to nothingness.

And then those blistered feet stepped on its chest with fierce;

I carried the pennant, and its heart I did pierce.

Now it’s done, some called it revenge;

But it wasn't just mine to avenge.

For me it was a duty, a duty towards my sanity;

Men, they called it Vengeance, for Titans it was therapy.

ANESTHESIA

ANESTHESIA

I found myself surrounded by Pain;

I found myself in guilt and shame.

I looked around and all was red;

No black No white, it all was red.

I saw my hand the skin was torn;

I took a cloth, stolen from another born.

And then I saw a man in the mist;

His hands gloved; his feet swift.

He took me to a tavern, offered a sip;

He spoke little, was tight lipped.

I was crying for the loss of my kind;

I called for them but none replied.

He then gently pressed my arm, he asked me to breathe;

 It shall hurt but give you peace.

And then I got that prick, a prick to relieve;

Anesthesia, it puts me to sleep.

It went down the vein, soothing the pain;

But all was not gone, some still remained.

Like shadows they haunt me, my eyes shut;

They paralyze me, creatures of the past, cruel and corrupt.

Anesthesia, it puts me to sleep;

Killing the pain, but made me weep.

On their knees they beg, souls taken.

Left in hermitage, they scream, the forsaken.

Anesthesia it puts me to sleep;

Killing the Pain, but made me weep.

Then gently I open my eyes, I see his hands;

I see no color; I see no creed, his hands torn like me.

And then he whispers to me……..

There is too much pain to relieve;

Anesthesia only puts you to sleep;

Kills the pain but makes you weep.

- ARUN DEV KUMAR

HOPE

HOPE

Like the burning candle fighting the winter breeze;

Like the melting snow at mercurial degrees.

Like the falling water from a steep;

Like the dead waves in the deep.

Like the sun at dusk shies to gleam;

Like the slavery of moon to the dark's deem.

The Candle shall fight and stand its flame.

The snow shall form from a mercurial game.

The falling water shall be a stream.

The waves at shore will sound a bold scream.

The sun shall rise from the abyss of night.

Light shall fall, iridescent like the bold Knight.

-        - Arun Dev Kumar.

ANOTHER WORLD

ANOTHER WORLD

A profound sense of simplicity in these eyes;

Stunned, yet Curiosity they guise.

Guileless faces though quiet, express more;

Many ignorant souls, they won’t lore.

These eyes seeking a mystical force;

What many merit by, they do not remorse.

Confined within dilapidated walls, it does n’t shake them;

They coalesce to make a world, the endowed condemn.

Blistered feet, earned in pursuit of banal necessities;

Their joy of satisfaction rests on a plinth of miseries.

A palate oblivious to the nobility of wine;

Satiated by chunks of bread; shared with love most divine.

I leave their fragile world, a world they mirthfully own;

 It is a web, alienated from hands and cologne.

-ARUN DEV KUMAR

A HERMIT'S HYMN

A HERMIT’S HYMN

Walking down a path unknown;

My bare feet scorched;

But humming a song;

The path dark and gloomy, it wasn’t torched.

Stumbling over gentle stones and massive rocks;

Trembling with fear, I kept humming the song;

Unwary, I kept stepping with confidence;

A Hermit’s journey it was, no voices no throng.

Then I stepped on a hallowed ground;

There was an echo of laughter;

And a mesmerizing tune from the harp;

But there too was a crook and a grafter.

The space so amusing, it was surreal;

But life is never so fair;

So I walked along a convergent path;

My ambition clear, pumped with flare.

My ambition fulfilled, but I wanted more;

The fierce flare in my eyes, ;

The foci I had to outscore;

Never to perish like snow, neither deplore.

-ARUN DEV KUMAR