In the pregnant silence
of time, lies wasted months,
decomposing, giving night soil,
to the naked truth of our lives,
growing up like a bastard child,
with you and me on either side.
The distance between us
a growing pale bromide
reflecting two more souls dying,
two bodies vying for signs of life,
once blessed by someone
claiming to have divine rights.
What happened to the life
we both dreamt and so desired?
You said you were OK
all this while, I said I too was fine,
now we wonder why
there’s nothing we find
but despise in each other’s eyes.
All lies, unspoken, hiding
the simmering pain inside,
Sacred vows of the past
ringing sacrilegious in our mind.
What have we found,
a compromise, so ill defined,
our spirits stripped of all pride,
left in shame, to whine.
The distance between us,
making us strangers to light,
gifting us a darkness
that’s so hard to deny.
Expectations and life collide,
leaving us to pick a million pieces
that once was our life.
April 11th, 2010 at 6:44 AM
Again. I’m floored. You just wrote the the entire story of my life right now. Gifted, man. Gifted.
April 12th, 2010 at 8:05 AM
hey Tracy, :-) Thanks.
All good stories at a fundamental level are universal. Isn’t that the timeless appeal of classics? Even though I do wish it wasn’t this particular piece of work you has to identify with. :-( take care.
August 22nd, 2011 at 9:49 PM
I’m glad you retweet these, Ajit. I missed this powerful post. You really have such a talent with wringing emotion out of words in a way that leaves me almost broken. I feel everything you write, I remember so many past hurts and triumphs. I’m glad you consider yourself a man in progress, because if your writing gets better from here, I can’t wait to read it.