11/12/2009, Friday...
The changelings are having their say..
& I feel the cauldron overflowing.
The certified certitude seems charade..
and the chagrined catarrh overthrows the conscience, this night.
This night, the 'beau monde' might beatify me..
This night, the 'beau monde' might canonize me..
and then, they might cauterize me... this night.
This night, the ready reckoner might beckon..
towards the light of a magical beacon.
This night, could be the night when my soul transcends..
this schismatic space and time.
This night might adjudicate..
This night, could be the night,
the night when my life ends..
This night, could well be my anodyne....
I don't know what 've i written and why 've i done that. I don't know if anyone can ever interconnect my sporadic thoughts.I don't know if someone will ever try to. But do i care ?? ... i never did... and i still don't...
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4 comments:
i dont know what youve written and why youve done it either. i hope the next visitor will.
hmmm... am living on that 'hope' man...!! :)
It was definately a bit different read........But then the ryhme part of the poem many times , seem to be coerced with identical metrical words.
But got to mention one thing for sure , Thoughts could never be tamed , more you try to confine more Cliche they become......So doesn't matter if your sporadic thoughts cld be interconnected or not rather in that very connotation .... ur work resembled to me interesting..:)
thanx for reading anju...
:)
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