As the earth spins around
Feelings atop a velvet moon
Speaking to sensations unbound
In the cosmos of God’s tune
I slip into another universe
Wearing one more pretension
Yet with my fears I traverse
Holding my scattered emotion
Trying to grip my self-image
As water in a hand’s clasp
The root of my rage
Seems forever out of grasp
A constant self-image to the eye
Morphs to a fragile glass
How long can I pretend and lie?
At every crossroad I pass
Mind’s invention of self
Cannot be written on rock
It expires in moments at the shelf
With only myself to mock
Until I accept the fool in me
Or the heavenly wisdom within
I cannot untangle, be blame free
Or from traps of self-image, win
© Venkat
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Posted on December 9, 2013 at 12:29 PM in Poetry, Venkat | RSS feed
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