Waltz Of a Man To Be

By Pritish Gupta

Bare hands, lead me through souless land

I collect dust, not one hold to call a day mine

Yet eyes, oh eyes of someone beside

I write like the day I picked my pen was last

I bury nature in endless cosmic stars

Care not for laughs, care not for tears

What it is to feel like a man meant to be

Dare I speak of lost, all that my hands couldn't grasp

Ledges I fell from, broken nails, no toils, no spoils, no wars, no cries

Yet in empty room I hide from some bleak destiny I write

Yet it bursts open, all the floods, the small lakes filled with emotions

She, her, face, smile, just say my name, keep me in your eyes, I see rituals, prayers

My demise, herons in the jungle, deers gallop

No lion a man like me, no struggle to hate the chains binding me

Land on land, scales so tipped over, 

To ground I am burden, to me looking down was nevee taught 

Fair is it not, to aim, aim for stars, why not the unobservable

The farthest, the unknown, no light there, 

Let there be, let me be, just little grubby hands to whatever cracks my skin continue develop

Sense of lost leaves, wilting,  I dare say its just little too fast

Walk with me, why are we running, wait

Let's jump, let's skip steps, let's laugh, fall over

Come join me in nest, join me dear

Hands of a man, rough, but fair, ain't no learning like the one meant to see

Seen it all in one room, more than all birds on trees have seen

Seas are vast, nature here is enough, nature was always enough 

Glass is shiny, cement is strong, brutalist is going to last years

But what of age, I like nurturing the flower, something that never last

Mind lost, evenings of wonder, no faith

What is your power, love ?

Show me your hands, empty eh

I don't hold what's meant to be free

Look over my shoulder there she is

Just like nature around, she waltz around

My conscious made her little home

Amongst all the blossoming flowers

Amongst what's considered color

All I see to me, my potential 

A cover to someone's story, 

Write like the day I first learnt, 

Written always as the last emotion I ever felt be

Blessed hands of all dust, all spec, all sand

No rush, no wind breezes past at the speed of cars

No rain falls and misses it's mark, man to me 

Force of nature, meant to be, felt to live

Love to eat, care to bring, emotions to see

All through eyes that captivate my string of songs I wrote dead in dreams

In one empty room, one empty night

Broken across the space, the urban, the nature, the conscious 

One mark, one chain, one string, one carved

Hold out hand, be the man, be the purpose, be the future, grab love and care, like the flower, perish not in tears, not in brittle structures, but the lovely folds of petals, 

Hands will be empty, as the ink dries and pen falls

Written like the first note, Witten like day lived long last

By Pritish Gupta