To prisoners of the Past.
Clutching at the last straw.
Hanging over the edge of an abyss.
Since a Millennia.
Addicted to the opium of the past.
The moss and fungi laden air,
Fumigating our lungs,
Asphyxiating our sense of existence of the present.
Greatness fossilised in the resin of our blood,
Remains frozen like a colloid in our arteries of thought.
No logic will penetrate the dead wood,
Its not wood it's not bio degradable.
The constipation of ages, has clogged our soul.
It is dying,
It cannot twiddle its toes.
When o when shall you leave your fools gold?
The past does not last, the present is in the moment,
The future beckons, your languishing soul,
It begs you to reckon.
Hardik Vaidya's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (To prisoners of the Past. by Hardik Vaidya )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
Percy Bysshe Shelley
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Kazi Nazrul Islam
(24 May 1899 - 29 August 1976)
(1330 - 1390)
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