The Vow

I write, in the name of my beloved
The one who I found on an open knoll

Whose attention caused dire consequences
Reigniting asleep flames of my soul

I speak of what saves, yet has destroyed me
I speak of my unparalleled devotion

I speak of the sole purpose of this life
I speak of a misunderstood notion

I have much recognized your decision
And hold it in deference to my rue

You pursue the unrequited for one
And I pursue the unrequited for you

Lest you become weary along the way
Just know that I will forever seek you

So I make a promise to be your home;
Vow, to which I shall ever remain true

Advertisements

The Pacifist

Why does the inner-self feel sated?
Why is there no void anymore?

The ambivalence is untangled,
I have no time for love anymore

The work has won all my attention
Even when it costs me happiness

Life can either be happy or full;
And work ensures a certain fullness

Unrequited love made me happy;
So perhaps, I’m a mere masochist

Love before, now work as punishment
Though in dire need of a pacifist.

The Consequence

Shall I speak of the consequence
One, that your attention causes?

Words you utter keep me stunned,
My heart stops up at your gazes.

I am known to have just one gift;
To feel things with intense passion

Yet it happens to consume me;
A divine fire, I cannot abandon.

In sleepless nights I sing to you
A song, however, incomplete.

On bright days I write you letters;
Ardent proses, yet bittersweet.

I am indeed burned with desire;
The consequence you must construe

If this is the damage of attention
Imagine, what your love will do.

Crossroads

Life’s unending conflict remains
How long shall I function with it?

The want differs from what seems best
Its outcome remain unknown yet

I have tried to devise a right path
To outdo hindrances and despair

My countless sins put me to shame
Oh, how low could I bow in prayer?

How fortunate would’ve life been
If one found both love and work

So neither one make his work, love
Nor would one make his love, work

Poor am I to divide my attention
Some for love, and some for work

All I fear is; through exhaustion,
I may just stop pursuing this quirk.