Merry of Despondency

By Rounak Giri

Dazed out, I stand in-between the vast legion of spent moments,

Shedding leaves and spilling tears of crying and dancing memories,

Drenched in the blissful high of some incoherent dreams- molds my entity.

Shimmering trees and their dark bark, obsoleting my wonders, I say-

“Solace is not something to search for, rather someone you want it from-

Only quenched when it fulfills its own will of fulfilling”.

The road lathered by the tears of my pain,

Reflecting the sorrows I pertain,

Subtle hint of a spark of undesired, paving my morbid thoughts-

Into my head, calming it seemed when unborn-

Behemoth of a woe after birth, smothering my vitality,

Encased in dirt and putrid intentions, walking towards me-

A simple smile made my life so dreadfully weary.

You see me? My despair, of leaving this empty attic?

The bright shine glitters, nothing but a tantalizing rhapsody.

As the dress is shed, the tree cries, wailing to be revived again,

Waiting for the next fall, I am, unlike her-

She waits for nearing spring.

Young and envious I was, you see me walking away,

Dwindling and dissolving, now you see,

Me shrinking in your vast clairvoyance of me.

Colors are no more, all blended together- juvenile crime,

Came the birth of darkness.

What to do? Why do you sit nonchalant?

Awed by the winsome crime you waltzed through?

Deeds suffocate, nothing but vapid delirium I was- eternally,

Sculpted me into chic symbol, a God perhaps?

Now, I walk towards the white, nothing holds back, nothing tied,

As I always was nothing but an ideal entity you made me to be, inside you,

Consummation of my flaws and the perfect ME that resided in you.

By Rounak Giri