Songs of Disappearance

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Prologue to Zero

A dictionary is yet to come,
Stand there Frankenstein.
Put on the hazy glasses
And I will show you darkness:

Time flies through smithereens,
A gentle breeze pass by
Over the dreary past;
Behold the abandoned clock
Singing her own days
Of world,of wars,of words.

Stand there Frankenstein!
A fictioneer is yet to come.

Silhouettes in the Cityscape

And you lie 
Every moment,every day,every time,

Ragged streets are whispering!
Street dogs peed on campaign posters
Last night
When
I was sipping my last peg.

Two men were standing upon Ganga;
Distanced themselves parallelly
On Howrah Bridge.
River flows by.
Nobody talked of identity
Yet they neighboured each other gently!
Two silhouettes tried to mark their
Presence in the cityscape,
Judging by theories,by lives,by portraits
Of a distant happiness.

It's past 3am!
Sleeping pills are finished!
A gaze distracts my concern:
Bloody Mary's peeping over my window
And have
Asked for water,
Asked the address of hospital.

I mumble in dreary truthfulness.

Epitaph of Hope


Cloudy sky holds the moon
Captive and the cosmos remains
Awkwardly silent,sounds deathly!

Wounded wolf pants rapidly,
Murmering old,familiar song ancient.

Streetlights dimmed,old pauper
Tastes tired clay lying on tidy back;
Seasoned spine connects with
The eternal history of survival.

Stars are still silent,showing
Obedience to over-reacher sky;

Cries in pain become past
In process,making present:
Clocks are ticking through
Blackhole of numbness:
Everyone is spelled!
Only
A few minutes back,
The baby has started crying
Unexpectedly
On the grave of expectations
And confronts the cloudy veils
With least importance.

The moon soars high over
Sedative cloudy sky,grieving
For failure of savouring history,
And lits the darkness unborn.
.
.
.
Impaired wolf stands upon
Pain,gets kissed by the moonlight,
Befits the self of warrior
And howls back the end
Of reigning loop of hopelessness.

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