Now that i lost the heart.
But those veins still strangle my throat,
I smell my own blood now,
Its stinking foul,
And i collapses to nowhere but to my own arms,
All other hearts and arms have knives in their shadows.
They tell tales to silence me,
And i run to hide my face,
Nowhere but behind my own shadow.
Everywhere ,its blood,
But that heart white with black spote.,
Stained by my tears...
Let me pierce a needle into it.
But it will never bleed!
What a mighty heart...
Your heart...that is my heart...
MY FRINDS AT SCHOOL USED TO CALL MY POEMS AS vadham HI HI -soya
ReplyDeletesoya, u really made me think. it sounds of some very mature poetry.actually in this age u should write matured poetry. its a good thought , but yes pessimistic in some sense. but i liked it. good going
ReplyDeleteCan i please have the copyright of this poem...please?:-D Its my autobiography...the three years before I came to Institute!
ReplyDeleteand now a little criticism...do be careful about your tenses,it interrupts the smooth flow of the lines, iam referring to the fifth line.
The first part is super good till "behind my shadow", doesnt mean the rest of it is not good:-)
keep posting...iam fast becoming a fan of this 'vadham' poet
God! that was real hard poetry!
ReplyDeletesoyajiiiiiiiiiii really I liked it.I feel something new in this, something mysterious or something UNCANNY [sorry if Iam talking like an Institutian] but yes the grammar that Sulfia reffered does pique. anyways good job
ReplyDeletewow! proud 2 b ur junior..
ReplyDelete