The Vile loop of His

while He doesn't it will

{
"Thhatt!", "Phhatt!!"
"Rise, you bastard! RISE!!"
"GET UPP, will you!!"
And as soon as he,
With arched back, pulled himself to rise,
"THHAT!!", on the spine!
}

Crocodile tears


I cry, tears surprise me;
The hurt is fresh; but seems familiar.
I haven’t broken a limb:
My heart aches.

After a long, long while
Someone threw a rope down my cellar!
“Hurrah!” “Yippee!”
“I’m going to be free!!”
The rope broke as I was climbing.

Time rushes out of the window.
The killing is imminent.
Something tells me I can stop it.
“Yeah, I know all about that.”

But why crave I this escape?
Why is this a cellar?
Why do I need to be out in the light?

The screws tighten on me:
And catharsis once again numbs the fire.






Dhruv Raj Sharma
30.10.05
12:35 p.m.

(Yet another) Hurt, an OUCH, and the Sun


The bulb throws light on this tear-less face,
The back leans against a wall,
A grimace seems the only affordable exercise.

Who do I run to?
The consumer forum?
A court of law?
God?
My parents?
ha, ha!

It's eight times in a string.
WHY!
My ancestors were supposed to be exceptionally good, noble people!
:-) , :-)


It hurts, again!
Yet, again!
Had these been physical injuries, I swear I would not have been around.
But that's where the mind is so much more powerful;
So much more powerful –
I wonder if it knew that day itself,
When I woke up to find my finger bloody,
And a smashed mirror.

No. It's not the mind.
Nor the intellect.
Something beyond…
Maybe it's the soul… …the wise…
And, it asks me:
"Do you really feel sad when the Sun goes down?"





Dhruv Raj Sharma
11.03.2007,
20:43 - 21:05.