A Poet's Cry Poem by Akhil S Behl

The arch of a mellowed pain

in a yellow breast;

the ingrown stub of a broken hand;

the harvest of a corpulent festering wound;

the lies that pry a brain apart: masquerading truth;

and the bitter engagements of life -

a penman's gems!



Have you seen a poet weave and mesh

the sordidness of the kitsch

and the cliche,

in the crown of a sea-nymph?

The glorious monsters he tames

into splendid obedient beasts -

pale as a young cotton bud

milked on blood?



Of an order of warriors

which has lost and found

the meaning of war:

Oh! the eternal,

unshakeable malignance of inconsequence;

I descend;

carrying in a sheath of wrath

the albatross: my pen.