The lonesome song is his trenody,
Of an oldster,who was taken no thought for
And as a weather driven leaf was
Rendend away from his perching nests.
And O! Miserably he adds one to them
Sustenance struggling destitutes,what curse
Had showered on this hoary age:
“It pours and never it rains”!
In the middle of nowhere he walks,
Seeking a vineyard for life;
With the thought of present,uttering imprecations
Tortured by despair and vast agonies….
What though life had been so pleasant,
Booned with all brightness,pride,honour
And upheld with reputation in sprouting ages!
Who now left alone amidst the madding monde.
The shriven skin,the teethless mouth
The sunken eyes in the sunken face
Finding hard to feel any stimulus:
Still he walks alone along the rushing way.
When he falls into his childhood once again
Children w’d desire to hear tales and even songs,
Potentials of only men of past;and still
So is it preserved;unshared and unknown
A brother,friend or father;what’s this state of life?
Though he be a destitute,claims this,does he?
-Ajith Vijayan
No comments:
Post a Comment