..The Lost Poet..

© Jonnathan Varghese

When the end is near
When everything’s gone
Not a trail even left
The tears that once comforted
Now nothing but a haze
So you stood up
Ventured out your side
Decided never to write
And thought that was life
I never called quits
And so shall you
Cos once a failure
But twice an ace
Together we may make
Or break history
Maybe never as soul mates
But as comrades joined
Cos we have a journey
Till that road subsides
Let’s not decide
Whether or not
Our words could remind
Everybody to write
Just to express everything
Bottled inside
Words that are mere puppets
To what one feels inside
Knotted and entwined 
It’s our journey divine.

Comments

  1. ankitaAugust 15, 2011 at 8:01 AM

    n u just made me all nostalgic with emotions!!

    ReplyDelete
  2. ~R@k~August 25, 2011 at 11:43 AM

    thanks ankita :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. mgeekDecember 9, 2011 at 10:51 AM

    You know, just yesterday I was thinking about critical theory (in literal criticism) and how Plato disapproves of poetry in his masterpiece "Republic". Somehow, the last four lines of your poem form the perfect answer. Plato believed our world, a world of becoming, is an imperfect one compared to the heaven, or some sort of higher world, a world of being. And he thought that artist, by mimesis (by imitating) of nature, i.e., our imperfect world, can never attain "truth".

    And your lines are
    "Words that are mere puppets
    To what one feels inside
    Knotted and entwined
    It’s our journey divine."
    How more fitting an answer could be! Bravo. Loved the poem.

    ReplyDelete
  4. ~R@k~December 10, 2011 at 10:19 PM

    Thanks a lot

    ReplyDelete

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