The Blessing and The Curse

Oh writers, oh poets, oh painters hear!
I know you’re inspired by the universe,

You’re burdened to feel a little too much
And it is to you both blessing and curse

You are indebted to create for this world
Without you, it will be deprived of art

And your art is supposed to make all feel
Without you, no one will know their heart

But in all your creation you may feel lost
As if the world is crashing down on you

Fires of passion may become unstable,
This pressure may begin to smother you

So listen to me all of you who create
For it’s you who have made this world better

And let the fires of passion burn you, for
A diamond cannot form without pressure


My Murderess

In your town, I have roamed around before
On silent roads and adjacent meadows

To sit alone for the moon to rise
For your image to gleam in each shadow

As night ascends, all these constellations
Fill in the darkness to garnish the sky

And a pleasant breeze pierces through gently
As if there is mention of love nearby

All these people have only one question
How long can my heart bear this affliction?

But who will then love your soul like I do?
And who will inhabit such conviction?

It is far beyond their understanding
What I’m to tell of the source of this hope

For what do they know my murderess has,
In a quiver, burning arrows of hope

The Keeper

Although I do not see you, I love you
If I see you I’d have to see you smile

For no smile is much surreptitious
And no one, have I loved more erstwhile

My struggle is harsh and return is vague
And my journey and harbor is passion

The unchanging earth has drained my soul
And life among people lacks compassion

Before I leave, I wish to see you once
So that I can carry your smile with me

If my hands get bloody, my soul tainted
In that dark hour will your smile save me

I’m afraid of going too far to return;
For I’ll become heavy and immobile

But I will love you in this fire and blood
And I will be the keeper of your smile.

The Fault

There is but your name that echoes
In the empty halls of a broken heart

A lot has been risked for your presence
But much less has been done on your part

The fault, then, is not in our stars
It’s in the very choices you’ve made

For you prefer inaction over drive
Because you’re tired of love that fades

And I shall seek you endlessly, for
I am a moth, and you’re my flame

Knowing that I’ll burn at your touch
I return, for you’re a fire; untamed

We shall meet again in this life or next
When we’re free from worldly burdens

And I shall remind you of my love
As I know for sure; its win is certain

The Reason

Why is it arduous to find a reason?
Reason, for my unending love for you

I’ve mistaken you for divinity ere
When you’re a mere human in lieu

I’d long given up hope on love when
We came across for the second time

You were mystifying yet luminous
And you carried prudence in your eyes

I could see how far you’d come in life
By your elegance, you had so refined

You have rekindled the fire in me
And now its flame is evermore divine

Perhaps, it’s your capacity I felt;
To save someone from their unrest

I loved you, as I needed to be saved
But ‘twas futile, as you yourself sought rest

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

The Argument

Why is my love for you, dyed in wool?
What is the hindrance to moving on?

Why in love have I been made a fool?
What’s been causing this oblivion?

Why is thought of you, ever-present?
What’s keeping me from forgetting you?

Why is the sight of you magnificent?
What’s it you possess than others few?

A slow fire burns deep within me,
And keeps my curiosity at high

I question these puzzles so direly,
To philosophy, a pleasure – wry

If all life has led me to this point,
To make me but a mere proponent

Then, from this day to my last moment,
Just you and love, are my argument.