A cruel jest
Or a path to precious learning
A spiteful taunt
Or a route to ultimate peace
FOWC: Hindsight
Tag: poem
Tell the Story: Sinha
His roar of pain could still be heard across the jungle plains
Pursued by the ignoble poachers his strength is waning
They’d taken his mother, her life for their illicit gains
Innocence
The Blame Game
How can I, one soul, bear the responsibility of a million failed lives?
How can I, one soul, shoulder the burden of a crumbling World?
How can I, one soul, define or defend the innocent, lost innocence?
How can I, one soul, replete the ravaged lands, plasticised waters?
Words
Life
I know you’re there, I can feel you nudging at me
Like a playful puppy or a rabid wolf, in turns
Roller coaster ride, infinite slowness
Sharp, breathless descent into
FOWC: Theatre
Lucifer slumped in his high backed chair
Manic laugh. Red hot poker in hand
He prods souls of unwilling players
Applause for the theatre of the damned
Falling
Hold on……..
What Will Be Left?
One day you will be gone, to ashes or dust
Your short time over, finished, no mess, no fuss
All you will leave in your place is memories
