When despair empirically engulfed through tearing dry cheeks,
No matter how hardly inscribing signs of dreadfully past creaks,
Some may fortunate enough be revealed through hasty times
Or remain desolated being scrambled blues of remote crimes,
Tumbling results always haunting as if something done so really
Despite being victimized evidence of spied dormant ethereality,
Which always a loyal stammer to throwing aside as a trivial myth
Even rambling gloomy past while mirroring a quirky, murky death,
Giving so birth to conflicts negating such idea's corporal ability
Besides haunting to believe whether stands for truth and reality,
What if ‘reality' actually ‘produced' as an ever searchable myth
Which never be traced; yet subsumed itself as calculated truth,
While making dead a ‘living'; also living too in a system's ‘death'-
Until evidence has had its ‘birth'; ‘ reasons' always remain-a-‘Myth.'
(Inspired by the narrative of Hindi Film: ‘Talaash')
On 2nd December 2012, Sunday,15: 35
*This is to express my view of gleaning the meanings of the words-Myth and Reality- to a mergeable single word to connote the actual sense of conceiving the ‘myth' as ‘truth' and ‘responding' to it as if really exists which, in reality, is elusive and hardly be traced from its metaphorical or sublime in nature.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem