Voices Of The Heart by Emmenay (debian ebook reader txt) 📖
- Author: Emmenay
Book online «Voices Of The Heart by Emmenay (debian ebook reader txt) 📖». Author Emmenay
And after it my eternal question races.
Do you want me too, to don forgetfulness,
And embark on a quest, after your soul,
Or in a half-awake seance of a sleepy spell?
If not, tell me, where do you now dwell?
Grief, for me, has become a drudgery,
I want a break, even if for a while only,
What has life become if not misery,
With brief respites of a short-lived smile?
The darkness reminds me of Gray's Elegy*,
The country looks like one vast graveyard,
Destination where? To Heaven or to Hell?
Or to hang in limbo till the doomsday knell?
Questions I have but no answers,
This has been so in the span of years,
Silence mocks me, even my whisper,
Does not find a shelter for tears.
The talk of wisdom seems so fruitless,
I have to wait and abide as before,
To be here was never my choice,
And yet I must for a few days more...
When the wind stops howling like a banshee,
When the hyenas stop their wailing,
When the bearded impostor stops moaning,
This heart of mine will seek mercy...
The forgiveness for your body and soul,
To save you will I my Beloved implore,
From whatever agony and pain threatens,
And give you blest joys forever and more!
*Gray's Elegy: Elegy written in a country churchyard by Thomas Gray...one of the best poems in English literature. My learned, able and philosophical father passed away in his sleep on the 3rd-4th of December, 2007, in Rawalpindi. This poem is a depiction of my first feelings...
(44) DIANA: THE PRINCESS OF HEARTS
The years have so quietly slipped by,
When a fatal car crash claimed Princess Di:
Born among royals but simple in her bearing,
Lady Diana was like a fresh rose of spring.
Growing up, acquainted with the facts of life,
Fate had destined for her struggle and strife.
Demure and charming in an enchanting way,
Happily teaching children read and play.
She was not after riches, nor did she seek fame,
Knew nothing of power, the game for a name.
Many were the men whose hearts did flutter,
When in attendance, in company or beside her.
One of such men was Prince Charles of England,
Who was stunned by her beauty and sought her hand.
The Prince wooed her in all the ways he knew,
She fell for him thinking that his love was true.
The royal wedding was the talk of the lands,
A royal romance turned into a ceremony - grand.
Many assumed that they were made for each other,
Nobody thought that it would end in disaster.
It is surprising to witness storms in smooth seas,
And so it was to see the ruin of a family.
Charles and his Princess were drifting apart,
Tempting women and men were playing their part.
The Princess was loved and admired by one and all,
Those who hated her - they planned her downfall.
They spread scandals and gossips and rumours -
Was she 'faithful or not' to the man who was hers.
That she did not fit in with the ways of the royal,
But her endearing manners won the hearts of people.
Wherever she went folks thronged to see her,
None in her circle that could compare with her.
The Prince was busy in another romantic encounter,
He was spending his time with Camilla Parker.
The heartbroken Princess did try her best,
To make her marriage work - she failed the test.
The flower spreading its fragrance all around,
Diana, like an autumn leaf, fell on the ground.
Sad and unhappy she was simply helpless,
Unable to do anything to sort out the mess.
She sought solace helping the downtrodden souls,
Desperately seeking refuge from royal ghouls.
It was sad to watch her wrecked phase of life,
All that was piercing her heart like a knife.
It was then heard that a man called Dodi,
Had come to save her and make her happy.
The people who liked her were glad to see,
That she was once more joyous and carefree.
But some devils who were masters of fraud,
Were plotting to sever their frail life-cord.
And it happened in 1997 - August's last day,
The Princess of hearts met death on her way -
On the way to reclaim the joy she had lost,
In a crash did she and Dodi die on the spot.
Millions wept for her and mourned her loss,
And the royalty revealed its artificial gloss.
To this day her cause of death is not known,
Was it fate's act, or some plot unknown?
The name Diana Spencer shall be adored for long,
It will take ages for like-her to be born.
(45) DISCOVERING EDENS
Tonight, new realms we found,
Strange friends accompanied us,
Softly, time and we embarked,
Discovering Edens all around.
No serpent could seduce us,
No forbidden fruit did we taste,
No guilt tarnished our hearts,
Love and trust conquered haste.
The angels all, they sang our praise,
God's great wonders were revealed,
Inside our own lay our happiness,
The universe stood still; spellbound.
The fall on earth was overcome,
With the joy of blissful reunion,
Heaven and earth were down below,
The extreme height of ascension.
Lost identity was discovered,
Truth and beauty became known,
Within, without, it was all good,
In communion with the Only One.
(46) DREARY NIGHT
Clouded night.
Dark and dreary,
Desolate shadows,
Confused people,
Thronging roads,
Frenzied mobs,
Blocking paths,
Pimps and call girls,
Wait like vultures,
As a cuckoo,
Sounds its warnings,
Urging caution.
Fed up I am,
Of all these scenes,
And these echoes,
And these faces,
My steps are firm,
I don't falter,
But I don't see,
Any ray of hope,
To rescue mankind,
And this planet,
From the forces,
Of annihilation.
Venus shines bright,
Red Mars stares,
Jupiter waits,
For disasters.
Our moon is eclipsed,
By our own earth,
While our sun moves,
On disturbed waters.
Let me take rest,
For I have to wake up,
And work as ever,
Against extinction.
(47) AN AFTERNOON WALK
The future stares,
Like a sparrow,
Frightened of,
Dark tomorrow.
Puddled pools,
Unlike whirlpools,
Hide marshes,
In time's spools.
Weather is bleak,
And veins leak,
Thunder growls,
A way some seek.
A man I see,
Looks deranged,
His tattered state,
A silent plea.
Tea-stall crowd,
Cinema talk,
This is culture,
In the town I walk.
Vulgar song,
Semi-clad youth,
Wild wild dance,
Berserk bong.
Chat goes on,
On cellphones,
Teenage fad,
Dusk to dawn.
Political crap,
Rents the air,
Falsehood, lies,
Prepare snare.
It won't rain,
I know it won't,
Dust-filled smog,
Will sweep the plain.
Some clean water,
Is all I want,
Where is it,
In this haunt?
(48) SPRING?
Jacaranda flowers,
Falling,
Creasing wavy winds,
Decorating pathways,
Baring trees...
Is it Spring?
(49) FALLEN
Fallen?
Fallen!
Fallen.
(50) FAR AWAY
Waves hide deep grief
How much this wind speaks
Paradise is far away
(51) FIE ON IT
Bright lights,
Smiling faces,
Confused folks.
I find myself,
Waiting for love,
In sky's caress.
I wrote emails,
Tried phone-calls,
But all in vain.
A photograph,
Of a long-lost love,
Keeps smiling.
"Casablanca":
How many times?
Play it again?
If life goes on,
Just like this,
Then fie on it.
(52) FOOL
Deceived again and again,
Stabbed in the back,
Slowly -- Giving utmost pain,
Like wolves howling in packs.
I am one of those fools,
Who don't learn their lessons,
born to suffer,
At the hands of 'friendly persons'.
(53) WITHOUT YOU
Seasons change,
Night-scent of flowers,
Rekindles my world of dreams.
Songs of love,
Echo in forgotten place,
A swish, a sash, dance.
Waltz with you,
Wishing it would never end,
What more did I want?
Living on,
To work, work and work,
Not the other way around.
When you went,
You wished me just happiness,
But how? Without You?
(54) HUSHED BREATH
It's autumn as I and the bared tree,
Shake hands with barren destiny;
The stiff air enshrouded by vaccum,
Chokes our throats with impunity.
How many seasons have both of us seen,
How many sighs that were sung on the green;
How many a heart has vanished unseen,
Gulped by the storm of a muffled scene.
Even today the tree and I ponder,
On spring's ecstasy that made us wander,
The restlessness and the sleepless nights,
When our unfulfilled hopes took us yonder.
The lake with its lotus wonders is dry,
The enthusiasm of teenaged lovers,
Everything is sunk in autumn's depth,
Life is just a whisper on fate's hushed breath.
(55) TIRED
I am tired, oh, how I want to rest,
I am tired of your summer fest,
Tired of waking up to alarms,
Tired of listening to old psalms.
Tired of getting up and going,
Tired of trying, trying, trying,
Tired of knowing there is nothing,
That really matters to my knowing.
Tired of rushing off for work,
Tired of enduring hours of waking,
Tired of this sick and creeping feeling,
Tired of talking and arguing
Tired of struggling for a living
Tired of living... for a living.
(56) I CANNOT FORGET YOU
I cannot forget you:
No matter how I try,
To myself cannot lie,
Or ever be untrue.
I cannot forget you:
When I open my eyes,
You appear and smile,
And when I close them,
You are there all the while;
When I watch the day dawn,
I find you with me,
Even when it's gone,
You happen to be...
When I sit down to write,
Your presence hovers,
When I try to relax,
Your face - it shines bright...
When I turn on the TV,
Or play a CD,
You haunt me as ever,
With your memory...
When I go for a walk,
I can hear you talk,
Right by my side,
Be it road or park...
You don't leave me alone,
When I want to weep,
When I try to forget,
You stretch out and leap...
I try to run away,
From all that is past,
But your tug is strong,
It holds me so fast...
How can I forget you?
How can I flee?
Even though you have gone,
You haven't really left me...
Every breath that I take,
Goes in and comes out,
Remembering you as if,
You 're around and about...
So it is, these days,
I am engulfed by you,
It was you who left me,
And separated all ways...
Do tell me, can you?
What is this pain,
That makes me feel,
I am lost, without you...
…I cannot forget you.
(57) SEEKING
Tide's music blends
Breeze hums quiet song
Where is the one I seek?
(58) IMAGINATION
Everlasting mourning,
In the memory of a friend,
Tears giving life,
To the beginning of an end.
High treetops stare,
At the deep depths below,
The road keeps winding,
As the travellers go.
Perched on a branch,
You chortled and chirped,
Like a nightingale,
Whose song, I heard.
From whence did you come,
O lovely creature,
My grief fades away,
while listening to your rapture.
Who will understand,
The language that you speak,
Save poets like me,
Whose imagination you seek.
(59) IMPERFECT MAN
When the blemishes in the mirror,
Stare at me,
I am hurt:
Because I see who I am.
Nobody else
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