TEARS OF RUST
The riddle of life, doodles to its seat,
As the furrow in my mind, lets in the light,
The place where I stood, all the days and more,
Is cuddling to a sleep, as the tenant begins to move.
He holds my head, or even my hands,
Trudging along the streets, now a bundle of foes.
My feet is left alone, sucked out of air,
While the chains from my heart is chained to its place,
My master, when I speculate to the retro’s of time,
Days of perseverance, a want to win and shine.
We grew up, a rise of my stride and your pride
To the calls of our friends and the ways of the winds
Together we flew, away from the locks, to a life.
Our secret adversary, the blackness of dark,
Tried to drive us away with a hounded bark,
Yet we met them, with a will for a thrill,
Together we flew, away from locks, to a life.
The dent on my brief, reminds me of the days at school,
Devils dressed up in ignorance, labelled you a fool,
Evenings meant freedom, when hell opens to heaven,
The breeze with a soul, the sun no more foul,
Are we there yet master, where do you take me?
I presume we have time for another romanticising.
The roses locked in our noses now,
The same which we gave to a lot lovely faces,
Yet there was love hidden in one petal, its fragrance wooed her to you
It was those evenings of liberty when I carried you,
The queen and you, to rejoice under the sky of love,
Thoughts flow even now, like the river which branches into a hundred,
But the falls of the present pull me towards it,
I hear a thunder and a crash.
“Where are you going?
I am getting rid of this junk.
Yes I see it looks bad, you could repair it though,
Nah, I don’t care, getting a new bike.
Oh! That’s great; anyway I would give a second thought on crushing this one”.
My guesses turn out to be true, I should have known,
But crushing and boulders, never did my mind see,
‘O’ master, I feel you deserve that, for the days of yore,
which never felt sore,
Buddy to junk, must be love I assume,
But sending me to the world of bane, a reason I seek,
‘O’ master, I lie here, as I remember the rodent’s song,
He sang the song the day his life met with the knife,
I lie here on a similar day, tied to metal’s death bed,
Lest I say,
‘O’ lord, if there is a lord, save my soul, if I have a so... (crash!!)