For A Poet Within Poem by Harsh Bhardwaj

"Darkness is what remains"
I wrote.
Dreams are
boats, battered with age,
we ride upon
hoping
to cross this river
of blood
in which shines
the stars, which have been
long dead!

Time doesn't justify their death,
nor our life, it does.
It eradicates everything
and ultimately itself!

Its a shore
(where silence is yet
intact)
I reach with closed eyes.
My father lost himself somewhere here,
they say,
that night
when he came to throw his gun.
But that was years ago.
Now
is a woman
who often visits me
in my poems.
She stands
on the shore opposite
and throws her lamp into the river
"Darkness is what remains
between you and me; "
she yells
"Its something that bridges us! "
And
I put my flute
on fire
to prove her wrong.
And its not tears
but my melody
that runs on my cheek.

"Time is a graveyard"
I have opened my eyes
and wrote.
Stars die a harsh death,
I always knew;
they become Iron in their death.
And we?

I wrote "home"
and put blade to my veins.
I have lost myself slowly
over the years
while writing poems
and ultimately
"Love"
was what I wrote
and jumped out of the window!