Tuesday, January 6, 2009
You standing at the grave of dreams,
In the gloom of the moon light!
Do you reckon the sea of your grief
Will calm down, by shedding a drop of tear?
Even when your inset was bleeding
You were dancing and singing, repressing
Your pain, like the nightingale who sang
While its wings were on fire.
You concealed your woeful sighs
Under the heavenly, enchanting melodies,
And camouflaged your tears in the veil
Of angelic smiles, adorning your lips.
The spectators who relished in the
Delightful performance, you showed,
Were never aware of the anguish
Inundating your doleful heart;
And they could not wipe your tears
With their clapping hands, applauding you.
The image adored and embraced by the heart
Has faded and lost its lustre by
Gnawing prejudices and disinformation…
Obliterating, the sunshine with black clouds
Of despair and obscurity of frustration.