Tuesday, June 5, 2007

An Astute Slumber





Imagining about the days to come,
Coming so close and then getting lost,
Losing my way in never trodden turns,
Turning to see what I left in the past.

The ignorant paths curve at their will,
Willing to let me forever follow their run,
Running all day I sweat till it darks,
Darkness is again washed away by the sun.

Circling my way in the sickly maze,
Mazes taking me back to where I was before,
Before realizing anything I suddenly hear,
Hear something like a deafening roar.

Ending faster even than it came,
Coming to meet its premature death,
Death was again blooming with life,
Living I am, only to write my fate…

2 comments:

Torsa said...

Good game with words... they lose themselves into next lines like flowing river... good work!

Anirban Ghosh said...

You'll successfully come out of the maze with undaunted spirit..."blooming with life...to write" (your) "fate"