The Song of the Dead

Vultures.

I see them swooping down on carcasses left behind by men.

Merciless. Irreverent. Hungry.

Dogs fight for stray limbs of half-burnt humans.

Letting go a shrill cry of frenzied thirst

Not a sound.

Not a sound to be heard.

Hawks nibbling at lifeless eyes.

Empty sockets stay gaping blankly at the night.

Stars too afraid to shimmer.

The moon takes refuge somewhere safe

Clouds- a shade of sinister black.

Life weeps somewhere far.

Like a child too afraid to touch the dead

I wait behind the curtain of silence.

Not even a prayer

Not a prayer on my lips.

Not a hope on my mind.

A spectator.

Only a silent spectator.

Helpless.

Still.

Infirm.

Bones rattle out in the open again.

Sooty at being half burnt.

Bury them!

Bury them deep somewhere

I hate the smell of death.

No incense, please

No flowers.

Death is not glorious here.

Death is not a feast.

Children sing at a far off place

I can hear their song.

Or is it some hymn of death.

Are all the dead awake

To see the living fare

A flux of life snuffs out the cold

from the womb of the night

Like that unborn child

in silent despair

It grudges life to death

Somewhere.

Again, I hear whispers.

Soft, soothing like death.

They are here.

Or am I just hearing things.

Oh! I forgot to breathe for a while.

Awe in awe of fear.

Sighs.

That rend the air

Ricochet twice from end to end

In mourning of a great demise.

No lip will ever arc in a smile.

No flutter flap inside my heart.

I died a painless death that time

When I kissed your lips.

When you drew my blood.

In an endless trickle

With greed in your eyes

I saw death in them.

Let the dust-storm lull.

Let it all begin for once.

Let the rot run riot in your veins too.

Let my ghost die in some peace today.

And float somewhere far away.

To a place where I may avenge this day.

Someplace- I may meet you half-way.

photo: gettyimages.com

Testing Times

Read, I shall.

Write, I will.

Be as smart can be.

To make heads turn

I have to earn

They say, lots of money.

I should turn out

Both stiff and stout

For knowledge makes for pride.

And wealth does count

As paramount

When looking for ‘that bride’.

All investments

Some own, some lent

Must bear this lovely fruit.

That my good name

Do garner fame

Worthy of some to brood.

Sometimes I think

At myself wink

That if I were to fail.

All hopes would dash

And walls would crash

I will have fled this jail.

To me success

Is one such mess

To onlookers pristine.

Out of sorts

Trapped in knots

You suffocate within.

Don’t look at me

For I can see

That cynic-smile on rise.

On your face

It’s out of place

On me it does look nice.

May be my words

Will touch no chords

Unlike last time I wrote.

I pray you feel

In my ordeal

My future goes to vote.

Ghosts of hope

In darkness grope

Expectant eyes on me.

In firing line

It suits me fine

For none will let me be.

For the time-being

I may just sing

That I will try my best.

In two-three days

Anxiety says

I am to face my test.

THE DEVIL'S REVENGE

A sharp pain sprinted across his nerves.
He awoke from his nightmare
Where he only ran.
And ran.
From nowhere.
To nowhere.
A faint light
Like a lure wrapped his vision,
Teased him
And urged him on.
To where he never knew.
It looked like an unending dungeon.
Deep like the womb of some hideous witch,
Dark as the caverns of the lair of death.
And like avarice incarnate in search of gold
He trudged along.
Dug at places where humans slept
And cadavers mocked in shadowy grins.
All along his eyes.
They were his only light.
As in darkness they burnt
With a primitive glow
Giving him strength, shutting his senses
To more sinister predators of night.
The Devil waited.

As in love and hatred
As in life and death
As in pleasure and pain.
He ran wild and blind.
The thorns of the bushes slashing his flesh
In careless cuts and brutal bruises.
He replied the paining numbness with a divine smile
Hanging off his lips.
Lips as red as a crimson gale
He was no human.
He was no ghost.
A tear drop welled somewhere.
An agony swelled
In Hell.
And a rose blossomed.
A star cracked
A child cried.
He ran.
A reckless black-curse of lunacy.
With hair askew
Feet bloodied
And like a fear unleashed.
The Devil waited.

Time coughed blood in spurts.
Doors opened.
Doom beckoned.
And in a thin stream of flesh and blood
Life escaped to its last refuge.
Like a heathen crawling
Like an insane craze
Like a winding road.
An endless nightmare.
Sweat poured from within
And his heart raced.
He opened the portal of his fate
Where bent on his knees
He kissed the lifeless hand.
And disrobed the dead
To lay a wreath
On his lifeless child.
The Devil grinned.