Tuesday, April 7, 2009

The Strangeness of things


A poem inspired by a question "why do all good things come to an end?"
this isnt exactly the answer. can there ever be one? very doubtful. khair, continue.
 



The Strangeness of things

 

To the familiar strangeness of things

I cry, I mourn, I plead as they bleed

Stirred again are the crusts of a creed

 

As another struggle for new allies follows

I succumb to the parting of older ones

Neither is this subtle, nor is that

What is, though, that I ponder never once

 

I never think, why my scorched trust

Rises from the ashes of itself, again

And like the phoenix, flies to higher perches

Till the last remains, the bough of heaven

 

All good things end, for the better to come

Or so do we think, or so is defined loss

With hope sweetening the taste of the truth

& Tears cleansing away their own cause

 

To the familiar strangeness of things

I cry, I mourn, I plead as they bleed

Stirred again are the crusts of a creed



3 comments:

Anonymous said...

"and tears cleansing away their own cause....."

that is remarkable. you are concocting magic potions with words dear. let not the magic wane.

Ilashree Goswami said...

The poem would've been lovelier without the introduction you've given..... Somehow, the intro compelled me to expect more than what I read.

"why do all good things come to an end?"

It remains unsaturated. Though efforts are worth appreciating, but somehow , I felt the poem lacked emotions to bring out a good, encouraging end..... or whatever kind of end you'd have thought.

But yet again, you are again so cool with words, awesome vocab and weaving of the words.

KUDOS !!

~

Ms. Shehab said...

"Why do all good things come to an end?" . . the only close to satisfying answer I've ever heard to this is that "sometimes good things fall apart so that better things could fall in together"