My New Journey

This journey I walk alone.
No mate to hold hand
No friend to give solace
I travel to unknown land.

Harsh terrains to cross
At times I stumble
At times I fall
Hearing menacing rumbles.

Those lands fair or vile
There's none to predict
I'll know in a while
Palace grand or ruin derelict.

A winding one way street
Not drive down highway lanes
Unchartered mountain range
Not stroll on verdant plane.

And when the journey's done
When I've reached a new home
Will light on life prevail
Will I walk into my tomb?

Not one of them

No, I am not one of them.

Living by rules alone

Walking on well trodden paths

Thoughtless. Unable, nay, unwilling

To look beyond the mould;
Each step blindly taken, each breath

False, each thought mindless.

No. I am not of their clan.

Far beyond limited living

In unfolding worlds ever new

I wander, alone, perchance 

A co traveller walks along

For a day offering friendship

Pregnant with promise;

New horizons leading

To newer thresholds.

An outcaste perhaps, ostracized,

Beyond moulds, maligned

Convicted, judged guilty

Crucified each day

By thousand tongues

Spears of hate, of dengration
Hurled menacingly
Futile attempt to kill
A free soul. .

Choices

Staying on is a soft choice to make

Curtains drawn in cozy world

I live a myth, a life of strain

Stuck in my rut I remain.

Clinging on is a bad choice to make

Ducking in the face of storm

Full of fear, I live a lie;

And lose life by and by.

Walking away is a sad choice to make

Stepping into uncertain dark

In pain, in sorrow my insides cry

To wake into living I try.

Aftermath of war

In aftermath of war
Dawn breaks- blood red
Thoughts, strewn around
Like corpses on battlefield
Food for hungry predators
And life limps on broken
A little less robust
A little more stale
Surviving destruction
Destroying survival
And in their midst
Blind creatures howl
For return of golden ages
Shutters pulled down
Blinds drawn close
To keep out, to resist
That blood red glow.

A Voiceless world

One day I wake up
to a voiceless world.
Here men, women, children
scream soundlessly.
Programmed zombies.
Each step a ritual,
meaningless motion.
Lifeless utterances,
in five act play
screened as silent movie.
Do voices drown helplessly
Do voices burn internally
Boiling lava searching
for a weak fissure
Ready to devastate
hearths and home.

The day this world shatters
Tower of Babble forgotten matter.
Words and screams, 
cries and pleas
rantings and raving
a spill over of voices
mingling to raise
a giant tsunami. 
Drowning voicelessness
Flowing free-
a gurgling death
for whiplashes
that once curtailed
voices of the voiceless.