A Retreat
I made up my mind, not to pay a heed
To my Heart’s spasmodic voice, a cry within to
Look back to the valleys of memories, peeped
Those wet eyelids and loud noise of larrups.
Trapped into the ullage, an urge to be freed,
How long can I drink the opium of life?
A blasted sigh, and countless greed,
Just to be down cast, and accept grimace.
When words are forcibly eroded
From the tongue, that battered so long,
When new terminologies are cast
Upon, the gnarled hands cannot forget the sins.
What is left now–a ragged cadaver ready for the final journey.
Yet, what remains are the gnashes and invective words,
Present had a squint, Past had a grin at me,
A wicked voice whispered in the ears, “Let’s retreat”.