blueballs

traveller’s hymn

the solitary star shines in the sky tonight,
there was a reason to believe we almost got it right.
when the flame snuffs out we just might,
have gone on to see more rays of light.

why, the soulful pain,
encapsulated in those eyes.
at least he knew it was a gamble,
a more-than-nonchalant throw of the dice.

estrangled along the streets of life,
where bazaars and stalls abuzz.
a traveller, smiles in his heart with content,
pleased at the knowledge he had finally found his place;
yet voices from within tell him to leave,
one too many a strange face.

given a choice, manic proportions.
he knows not which voice to listen to.
every moment the hotel walls whisper,
and grafts his skull so tight.
oh, he finds himself locked in too.

the dark shimmers, glows.
the light flirts with the unknown,
with a naughtly occsasional flicker.
two elements conflict,
unable to establish a signal.
all they do is to go around each other,
interacting, but not intertwining;
refusing to discuss, avoiding all bicker.

the line between success and failure,
often dismissed as ‘thin’.
the traveller realises its inexistence,
depleted reserves and hardly a grin.

tiresome. addictive.

let it peter out.

the lyrist

the enchanted lyrist gathered her thoughts,
though little a word she could write.
never a time could she find a sentence,
that would end in a rhyme.

the lyrist, too used to woe and lachrymose,
mired in melancholy;
tasked with stringing a happy tune,
never a hint of glee.

she looked up upon the heavens upon,
for divine gifts she asked.
once too many times she had seen,
how people around are masked.

the skies were blue,
the plains were full, and the forests burst with life.
once more the lyrist made herself believe,
for once more, on empty she’ll drive.

for a cause that she envisages,
for the song never sang.
for every dark rhyme that saw the light,
onto all hope she’ll hang.