Poems Miscellaneous

Illusions of love


Away many miles even you may be,

In my heart pain mounts, breaking away

Its delicate bits glued together for free

By love from you who for my comfort has final say.


For many days with me you may live,

But yet for you my passion glows like fire.

For me you were made tho’ you may not believe,

That’s why you can’t suppress in you that desire.


A day without you but strengthens my soul;

Thus, yours too needs to face the truth,

As there at the altar no vow was made

That when comes your death mine too peeps.


Two are two

All I have for you is my heart, nothing else.

Now and then the feeling is renewed;

Although life exists only in us two;

But as for me, none is there other than you;

Yet be not conceited for separately we were made;

And alone each will be claimed.


Before our meet I was strong,

But now my life has been weakened.

Thus I find this desire for you absurd;

For what does it benefit me now?

When all truth is I am and you are.


They that say forever they shall be one

Only display a real sense of artificiality,

For out of two one make will never be pure;

And out of two shall be two, nothing more.

Hence even now we are two, not one,

For my heart is all what makes me,

And your heart all what makes you;

Whose merging can only bring death.

Thus my stand stands: two are two, never one.





Feel my pulse

Feel my pulse and append some commentary.

Does it mean anything to you now?

Tell me the truth and unburden me now;

For all I need is a true answer from you,

That I may concede defeat or celebrate win.


Look into my eyes and observe something.

Is there any reflection of love that goes into yours?

Hide nothing and put my mind at ease;

As I may be fooled by my own distant illusions

Of hopes that are coined out of wishes.


Feel my pulse and feel my life.

Is it normal when swift it is now?

And abnormal when slow it was yesterday?

An honest answer can come from you only;

You who controls my life, even in your ignorance.


Oh, pink rose!

Oh, pink rose you bring me real joy!

As the air you scent for me, no one else.

Among roses of all hues you stand out,

And render all nature but useless;

For you alone were made with all care.

But for me you are not yet one

And this way I feel it good and real;

For when I come, pluck and keep you,

Your beauty I may no longer adore.


Oh pink rose, be there in the field for my joy

To hold you between my fingers I can’t afford.

Yet all I want is no man should pluck you,

And own you as his own for a day or more;

For that way, I may not adore you anymore,

In fear of breaking a holy commandment;

As I have within my heart proved it

That I can’t own you, yet I can’t avoid you,

Then my life may as well be on the balance.



From me comes this warning

I am but a silent observer placed far and high,

Yet among you my eyes roam boldly.

From me comes a message the time is nigh;

For you whom I love fondly.


Now be to you time to straighten your ways,

That such may you after passing on have joy,

For having lived enough even for a few years;

And truly your king you shall not annoy.

From me quickly comes this message;

A message but extolling sincere warning,

That there in The Book you search a passage,

For your real life to be devoid of groaning.


Worst be times for he that has condemned

With or without ignorance, yet be the scripture

That for all message of warning has proclaimed.

But for they that wait, filled with hope for rapture;

Are required for the holy place to bring more in,

And cast wide the net for fulfilment of the commission.

Hence for them even after death joyful life may begin;

As judgment will be cast without error or omission.