top of page
  • hashtagkalakar

Man of no more

By Eliezer Khiangte


Long ago over the cloud filled valley

Tell you a story of which I remember distinctly,

Of a certain somebody, who vanished suddenly

Leaving a trace that ends abruptly.


And I ask the man of the town

What’s the reason to this man’s fall down?

To which he answered “We know not! And not speak

of it for it brings perplexity and discombobulation in

the hearts of the young.”

This they say and make no-more a sound.






I made effort from door to door

In order to get a little idea that I can pour,

Of that mysterious man whom everyone did ignore

Trying their best to avoid its restore.


Then I turn to books and scrolls

But little of it was spoken of the man untold.

Despite the richness of word explored,

Not a single word did explain his contour.

Travel I to streams, rivers and cascades

For to flee from the ever-growing inveigh,

And of his soul, no more did weighted

Lest it touch one of these young ones and be played.


Nevertheless, for the cause of the one that is lost

Seek in more diligently, nor wait neither a pause,

Searching for a reason no matter the cost

A reason for the heart of man that cause to frost.


Down the shore where the incident did occur

Stir the birth of this mysterious slur,

Footprints that ends fixed behind the bolder

soar above the heights and still remains a muddy blur.


This I say about the man of no more

Driven by the roar that he deplore evermore,

And the things yet to be explored

For no man knows the source by which he soar.


This I continue but he that knoweth, knoweth it all

For there must be a reason of his sudden call,

Never to put a reason for this to brawl

For he who hault suffers his own soul.


The land of the cloud filled valley

Remains in my heart that beats constantly,

Recall the moment though be blurry

Yet, a trouble memory but a wonderful story.


By Eliezer Khiangte





844 views114 comments

Recent Posts

See All

By Anvita Tantia They're real, And raw, unfettered They're long, Clear and uncluttered They sometimes ramble Other times they're crisp These conversations meander Within my head Two Voices Sometimes t

By Arpitkaur Huda A hundred places , a hundred faces Passing by the eyes, Pretty names , harsh truths And a thousand sweet lies. Daily people, daily battles, Choices and fears, Appreciation, apologi

By Nirupama Bissa कर सूरज को बंद एक डिबिया में, दिया लेकर उजाले तलाशते लोग। घोल कर हवाओं में ज़हर अपने हाथों से ऑक्सीजन के प्लांट लगाते लोग । घर में बुजुर्गों का अपमान करके, वृद्धाश्रम में चंदा बंटवात

bottom of page