The Shroud Of Veracity Poem by Santosh Misra

THE SHROUD OF VERACITY


I doubt
With a gap in generation
My kids shall adopt veracity
With a mind set for climbing new heights
At any cost as the add-ons to their egos.
I remember I did not obey
My parents in my burning childhood
When they preach for veracity
Though cursed with time I understand
How right they were in their vision for life!

Under the canopy of a colourful horizon
And blend my pen to register a creative signature
For blossoms over the meadows
Beyond a silent melancholy.
I try to sing lines of love -
Under a frozen ecstasy
And strive hard to get away from
My solitary solitude-
With the fading dreams of my mate.

I wish some one to treasure
My shared appreciations for the Blossoms
And wrap it on me
As the shroud for my burial,
And I sleep in a nostalgic calmness
With bestowed fragrance of the blossom.
After decades I now opt
To adopt veracity with heart and soul
Peeped in it,
Caged inside an Old-age home.

I thus left a will recorded
To shroud me in my burial
With a canopy of my late adopted veracity
To induce a therapy on the
New generation.