! E L I X I R ! Poem by Rema Prasanaa

Like one moody disturbed Sea
strange is day with its sudden
moodswings, steals the lights
like one empty lamp without any
gleam to offer and the faint shine
of morning, powered by winter wings;
a convict, fatigued earth rolls, each day
a page of surprise in existence
on a shredded misery in adverse
the silent, standstill universe
petulant on several unanswered
questions, endorses finally one
signature on melting hardness
of scattered hate.
In one sacred temple of blessed life
perhaps alchemist designs metal
and transforms into pure gold to free
self to attain realisation
and it is better to survive on a life
which is more gifted...




13/12/2008