By Mukesh Choudhry
...To some things unheard,
Some words unsaid.
A beauty unseen,
And those, who lived,
Living undead...
Come weary traveller, you're split at seams,
Lets warm our souls in this bonfire of dreams.
Cast a fire, spill your flame,
Mend that tired, ragged frame.
"What do dreams cost?
Oh, so much, I found:
As I sacrificed my connect,
In lieu of the mount;
To see by thee, by thine eyes,
The sound of vision — that;
That minor ever might realize,
Yet mostly never fruit,
And life could never count."
Where do our dreams begin,
Where do our lives end?
What songs from our vision of love
Shall we sing for their pleasant nightmare then?
"To break a butterfly
Upon a wheel,
Shave the iron, slam the steel.
Such is my zeal — I can't yield;
My Faustian deal,
The ghost unsealed,
An undone peer whom cold winds steal
From the unforgiven those, who kneel –
When their conscious dims and
Sorrows field,
Our greed will burn the heart it feeds,
Doused in wines of souls it feels."
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...Where do we go from here?
Down through the skies, or
Up to those stairs?
"When lies were true
And no one cared,
Set off on a ship of truth laid bare,
Sail out to the seas of lands un-fared..."
*