Turmoil...

The raging waves of the ocean, seeks the shores;
Rays are searching the lamp to shine;
Passions are sought by a vibrant heart;
Intense intimacy is desired through emotions.
Where is the conscience of man?

In the plain of conscience, writhing in pain
Reveal the lines, drawn in water by illusions.
Generations sat waiting hearkening the trampling
Of hooves, of the horse of time.
The seasons with rain and summer
Spring and winter lay swooned
On the naked bosom, of the earth.
The virgins of seasons danced in exuberance,
And exited, from the mega stage of this globe.

The earth below the pyre where a dead body
Was cremated, nurture a carnation,
In the same place, where the ashes remain,
Mixed with the soil, greeting the remains.
The garden where blossomed the flowers of imagination
For long, is now searching sand and desert.
The mind has become blind and is now
Rummaging for a spectacle, and is hunting
For composure, in the neighbourhood bar!