HAPPY B'DAY!

My lil'l princess turn 3 today!

Friends Forever !

I couldn't discard my selfrespecting ways,
As such I couldn't my inner worth display.

Drowning yourself in the cup, you could forget your grief,
But the woes of life could not be assuaged.

The magic of the plighted troth broke in such a way,
Never again the flame of love its head dared to raise.

Everthing sheds its lustre when viewed to close,
Even he couldn't control my manic phase.

How depressing were indeed the accidents of love!
No desire dared survive in my heart dismayed.

Disappointments have robbed me of my verve and zeal,
Even my love couldn't my drooping spirits regale.


Friends in the present age have shed the warmth of olden days,
Honour, shame, love, regard - everything is cast away.

Though they make professions of deep, abiding faith,
Of true love in there hearts, there's not a trace.

The beauties give a straight response to those who archly gaze,
But for those pure -at- heart, they have only scant praise.

One glance from the beauteous eye, and they lose their wits,
No more do the priests now spiritual skills display.

Be you not a nightingale of the worldly glade,
The scent of love and loyalty it no longer exhales.

Befriend not anything else but the Truth Divine,
The world, is wanting in genuine, friendly ways.


I' m not the apple of any eye, nor the joy of any heart,
A handful of useless dust, no purpose I discharge.

I' ve lost my strength and shape, I' m severed from my friend,
I' m the spring of the garden, laid waste by fall.

I' m a friend to no one, nor a foe to aught,
I' m the star-crossed fate, I' m the ruined resort.

Why should someone sing my dirge, or come to lay a wreath?
I' m the tomb of helplessness, better left in dark.

I' m not a lilting song, which others may hear or heed,
I' m the wail by severance caused, a cry of anguished heart.



What problem can I' ve in laying down my head, O friends,
I' m the first to announce myself, first to give concent.

What's poetry? To spend your life struggling with the words,
To tap their potential, their strength and scope extended.

I' ve something to say, better I desist,
But what is wrong if I reaveal my intent?

He knew that a secret wave surged within my brain,
So he was cautious about ordering my banishment.

I should now ford the stream, thus I cogitate,
The wave is weaving whirlpools from end to end.