Unchanged Illusions


To hold another close
Only to leave soon,
Singing a tune of grief.
To matter to another
Only to be disregarded,
Spitefully led to mist.
Somewhere along the journey,
Spiraling affections
Sneak past the moth-bitten screen,
Draping old passions, hiding
Corrosive familiarity.

Attuned and honest to each other’s fault,
Forgets previous passionate immersions
festering Illusion of intimacy.

Comments

Patronus Charm said…
Life itself is said to be an illusion. But we human being are so desperate that we take every illusion to be true.
Illusion of love is so strong it can hide the bitter reality and the past experiences.
Great poem.
February 29, 2008 at 9:29 PM
Anonymous said…
Its wonderful poetry you have there...what I liked abt it is its pretty serious stuff u hav there but its not very very heavy..in the sense u hav captured the essence quickly..its almost like taking a snap shot..u kno something & before it goes away u have penned it down :)
March 6, 2008 at 8:18 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Grim

Image
Noon Shadow fear, the passing Miles that play tango with stricken expressions; Jugular grasps and lamenting veins flutter At what might have been. To the lowest bidder forsaken, Betrayed for being loyal. Daggers enter sharp through my back, twisting all that I knew. Gashed thoughts, no pain it only aches Everybody’s trusted ferret.
Read more

FLower Power!

Slender and graceful Resplendent beauty, Grows amidst infinite variety, care and joyful prayers Seeking glory and grandeur. Each gesture,their gentle bow thriving amongst nature's greens rekindle hope and joy in every heart.
Read more

Potted life

Like a potted plant Life emerges secure, Taken too seriously, life Seems affected, Stifling, incapable of rising. It falls then on one, To weed out stray thoughts And prune the unformed. The lure of life escapes none Triviality of which Is clear, at thought of firm demise. It falls then on one, To move with shifty time That erases the stinging pain, Mounting, at the felt absence of life. Grounded in values, yet Elaborate rites seem Tiresome, forcing out, yet again Placid memories elapsed. Tender years, Monstrous roots, Upturns and climaxes Shattering the pot, Leaving pieces of frailty within grasp.
Read more