Words, for poetry I have none.
Words, i have none for poetry.
I have spent a few trying to light the labyrinth of this life.
The sea no longer makes any sound.
The waves quietly touch the shore and go back in silence.
The clouds no longer,
touch the pyramid of my dreams.
The moon, a hazy presence,
Sits and ponders.
The petrichor, it heals broken souls,
But rains no longer feed the parched earth.
The sun lashes out heat,
Half burning my attempts at poetry.
The stranger's kiss heals the estranged heart.
Words, no longer speak to me.
They pass, as instruments of livelihood.
Not touching the chords anymore.
They jump, they slide, they happily glide,
On the computer screen.
But they don't visit the ailing heart,
The sore corners of my box of dreams.
Existence, a jumble of unspoken words,
Lying on the edges of a stained tea cup.
Words, for poetry I have none.
The sea, the clouds, the earth, the sun,
All witness the cosmic dance.
The dance life imposes and binds us in,
The music the universe plays for its ruin.