Painting by George Frederic Watts

Poetry Shall Be Born

Sky, all barren and emptied of stars

Night refused to reveal its scars

Autumn winds casted the magic spell

The last hope of the spring fell

The ocean held back the waves

Fondles which now the shore craves

Winter froze the thoughts in veins

Ink spilled on the soul, leaving stains

Chaos has engulfed the forlorn town

The king has lost his precious crown

Corpses lay scattered in the path

Walls painted with the color of wrath

Bouquet withered away by the tomb

Humanity awaits the words to bloom

Every page seems all tattered and torn

Amidst the mayhem, poetry shall be born

Painting by Cecilia Brendel 

A Journey Song

Darkness vanishes into

auburn dreams of dawn

I unveil the curtains

to behold nature's fawn

Draught croons a tale

of summer bygone

Winter rises from cold

ashes of a desert forgone

Myriad stations die,

countless new are born

My train chugs ahead

whistling a journey song

 

Painting by Peder Mork Monsted

Abandoned Woods

I trod on the withered quilt of bygone moments
The memories hung up there on the trees
basking in the reminiscent sun
waiting for the nostalgia to caress my senses

Besides the river of sub-consciousness
the empty flute of my heart
craved for the marshy ground
where its infant reed had grown

In the depths of the forlorn night
beneath the weeping willow
the barren womb of the mossy lake
yearned for the reflection of the moon

A twig of time detached and fell into the past
breaking the drowsy layers of my reverie
I awoke in the lands of deforestation
my childhood slept with the abandoned woods

 

Gems 

Oh! Precious Gems
Veiled with the silky curtains of dreams
Possessing the monsoons of distant land
Thou preserve my memories since eons
Thy mirror reflects the entire cosmos
Ah, the shooting stars and the glorious galaxies
The colossal Milky Way where my sun belongs
Thy shimmer carries a thousand moons
Within thy horizon my waves are born
Thy enthralling stare rekindles the doused hearts
Within thy brooks my ink flows
Upon thy lush dales my poetry soars

 

 

Painting by Howard David Johnson

 

Prophecy

 

Omen tosses the silver coin

Etched with good and evil

Destiny resonates in its fall
 

Drifting in the numbness

Death knocks on the closed door

Life lulls in reverberation
 

Blood carries the atoms of war

The grave gets smeared with scarlet

Perished warrior rises from the dust 
 

Chariots collided with the galaxies

Stars pierced through the skies

The air reeks of stardust 
 

Withered night holds a secret

Winds flip the pages of time

An ancient tale gets liberated 
 

Within the pitch-black catacombs

Sacred fire chars the ashen manuscripts

Forging a perennial prophecy