The night
Spilled a thousand scars,
Bathed in its moonlight
Of indifferent repentance.
Wept its heart out
In the broken song
Of the fluttering night-crickets.
Poured out its grand sorrow
In the wisdom-sparks of its stars.
Flaunted its agony
In the flamboyance of the ocean.
It had its moment of glory,
A rendezvous with repentance…
When I was fast asleep
In a dreamless sleep.
And now,
As I wake up,
Why do I feel
That the morning light today
Is peeping stealthily,
Like the subtle silence
Of a half-hearted poem
Aware of its beauty,
But Unaware of its own delight.
Aware of its grandeur,
But unaware of its painful roots….?
First four lines are terrific with a metaphor. The 'night' crawls here with its subtle mind enveloped with passion...the concept is very much flowing without pause.10+
hey..nice you saw the night...you felt it...then you slept and when you got up, you questioned
I like the last four lines of this poem and I also like this poem.. a great piece..
You have printed the twist and turns of life in the last stanza...great free verse form woven with fine metaphors...10+++
This poemm of yours is of a different height and depth, very talented, good use of imagination and allegory, the last stanza stands out.....fantabulous write! ! ! !
the first stanza lines are equally figurative too...good piece, Sarvesh...10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this reads ur best, sarvesh...