The Final Piece

A tottering man on a lonely road.

Groaning, screeching and was calling out,

for the missing pieces of his soul.

Until he finds the pieces,

his barred soul won’t be set free.

‘Passion’, ‘Kindness’ are two of them

and ‘Love’ then made it three.

“Passion!”, he screamed, stars descended

Clenched hands though fingers bled.

Moonlight cascaded his being

The dark night got turned blood-red.

Bowed down on wounded knees,

He prayed with parching will.

The benevolent Gods then listened close,

‘Kindness’ sprouted in his soul,

Gushing rivers all just stood still.

Twas a long night, ‘Love’ was nowhere to find,

Gusty wind, through his beard, was hissing.

He was lost alone, he couldn’t go home,

As the final piece was missing.

A few deep lines

A few deep lines to remember you by,
A few dead nights with quivers in my soul.
These lines are covert, faded and sunken in my skin,
They emerge back on my body when I am sitting alone.
They remind me of your hatred for me,
The insult, the jealousy and the fury I condone.
They’re healed, they don’t hurt and they barely squeak,
They lie mute under my cuff If I take a peek.
Well, the night comes back and I hear them groan.
Then I pick up my quill and I word their howl.
A few deep lines to remember you by,
A few dead nights with quivers in my soul.