The living dead

Why is this charade of living
Every moment is a struggle
A life living like a dead
Why this thirst unquenched
Relive daily the struggle to live
Is it just an illusion
A role playing
Dead playing the living
O’ you romantic
Yearning for a night
Under the starlit sky
Come share my bed
On the street
Even the full moon
Casts a dark shadow here
Hear my story and chronicle
The life of a living dead

Thankful to be living

Everytime my heart sings a tune
And the sound comes out tortured
Everytime my pen writes a poem
And the words come out twisted
I die a little

Everytime I extend my hand of friendship
And it gets slapped down in disdain
Everytime I spread the gospel of love
And it gets shouted down
I die a little

Everytime I communicate across the divide
And I am misunderstood
Everytime I want to embrace one who disagrees
And I am pushed back
I die a little

Everytime I die a little, scarred and hurt
And the heart weeps silently
Everytime I spring back like the phoenix
And I resolve to keep on trying
I am thankful to be living

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

 

 

This Moment

Do not care any more for life
Will take it one day at a time
As it comes
One hour,
One minute,
One moment
To ponder
Live in the moment
Live for myself
If I do not live
Does it count
Living for others
Everybody has own
Selfish reasons
For living
Their lives
No silver bullets
To end this agony
Of what will happen
In future
So why care
This moment
That I live
That’s what matters

सिफ़र.

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