I love those street lamps that stand alone the whole night... lighting the unknown streets to many.. yet its dark for me!
As if I am a trespasser in their territory.
Yes,
I am the traveler,
Traveling through my past, I have reached here;
To travel and explore my future.
I have faced the artillery that have left me wounded ,
I had to take the painkillers, that tried hard-
But failed to heal my pains.
The scars of my previous tortures,
Haunts my senses, every time I look at the mirror..
I fear.. My own eyes now,
They force me to look into my desolate heart..
Whose feelings I have abandoned long ago.
I can hear the guns firing round me,
I can hear the sound of the clock,
That's ticking inside my brain-
Making me remember, I have to detonate;
That I have to detonate the charges,
That I have set with my own hands,
With my these two very hands-
To blow up the dreams once seen;
And their feelings that still terrifies my soul.
Yes,
I am a soldier-
With his ammos exhausted ;
Still trying to fight his way out,
With just a dagger in his hand.
Running away seems so cowardice,
And dying such a pain.
Trying to cling on.. Saying my soul,
"Charge! Make a last try my friend!"
I have lost my detonator.....
So have to travel to the future,
To get it done myself.
Yes,
I am a human being.
Trying to put my life, back on track!
Poetry by Nilanjan Dutta
Read 440 times
Written on 2011-01-17 at 17:43
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YES, I AM
The street lamps are staring at me,As if I am a trespasser in their territory.
Yes,
I am the traveler,
Traveling through my past, I have reached here;
To travel and explore my future.
I have faced the artillery that have left me wounded ,
I had to take the painkillers, that tried hard-
But failed to heal my pains.
The scars of my previous tortures,
Haunts my senses, every time I look at the mirror..
I fear.. My own eyes now,
They force me to look into my desolate heart..
Whose feelings I have abandoned long ago.
I can hear the guns firing round me,
I can hear the sound of the clock,
That's ticking inside my brain-
Making me remember, I have to detonate;
That I have to detonate the charges,
That I have set with my own hands,
With my these two very hands-
To blow up the dreams once seen;
And their feelings that still terrifies my soul.
Yes,
I am a soldier-
With his ammos exhausted ;
Still trying to fight his way out,
With just a dagger in his hand.
Running away seems so cowardice,
And dying such a pain.
Trying to cling on.. Saying my soul,
"Charge! Make a last try my friend!"
I have lost my detonator.....
So have to travel to the future,
To get it done myself.
Yes,
I am a human being.
Trying to put my life, back on track!
Poetry by Nilanjan Dutta
Read 440 times
Written on 2011-01-17 at 17:43
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
