Left Out In The Dark, Alone.

Earlier this morning I posted this poem in LonelyPoet.Org.

Some of you may be Christian, Some Jewish, Some
Buddhist, Or Atheist. I don’t care what you believe or not. I will not
try to impose my belief upon anyone through my posts, comments or even
the intros like this. I write this here because there is the mention of
God in this intro and I don’t want anyone to believe that I am trying
to impose what I believe on you or just offended by the mention of God
in here.

This is a poem I started writing in June 2005. I abandoned
it in between and kinda took some ideas from this poem and wrote other
poems that now don’t even look anything like the idea I took from this
poem. I started working on the idea when I went to India in May 2005 in
Kochi, where years back I had the wildest rides or the most hypocritcal
life any man I know ever lived. That life was only part of my life, I
thank God in giving me the oppurtunity to live life in my way and walk
paths I later realized are not for someone like me. The greatest
achievement was the understanding of the forgiveness of God Almighty.

That
is the thought process that went into this poem. I first worked about
for four days on this poem and later left it. I thought I may never get
back to it and started pulling out some portion of it to compose couple
of other poems.

Last night I felt left out. I am not going into
the details of it. At that time I pulled out from my archives this poem
and added the last stanza.

Walking Back To A Dead End

Walking by the road, I see,
No crowds or any motors high speeding.
The wonderful city is yet to burst,
Into the day being born,
On the lap of our nearby star.
Mongrels lying tired in deep sleep,
After evening scavenging,
And night time brawls in dust covered alleys,
Every step of mine so carefully laid,
Upon the road still warm,
From the wrath of the dead day gone by.

The cool breeze from the west flowing,
Deep into the alleys and pausing my thoughts,
The weary wind brings a hope for the day coming,
And the birds waking and yawing their squeaks,
Or are these chanting morning prayers,
Of creatures seeking forgiveness,
For the merciless minds of men,
And the cunning lust of women?

Into the west I looked and seen,
Darkness fading away,
The magnificence of the sun so bright,
Burying all stars and planets.
How many hands still will be lucky?
And how many lose their lives?
When the lord of the day buries himself away.

I could only walk into the concrete jungle,
Understanding the limitations of my care,
Where I once lived with every means,
Of pleasures material life can give.
Though regrets never touched my thoughts
Sometimes I heard the cry of my spiritual soul,
Uncared, misunderstood and abandoned,
Like a wandering orphan in this jungle.

Oh’ barefooted I am in my walks,
Legs don’t feel the pain,
Ears don’t hear any noise,
I can’t see the horizons anymore,
And I am not tired at all.
As I know the spiritual soul is carrying,
Me along this road where none recognize,
My face or my voice,
But merciless and cunning away they all walk.
Into oblivion with the screaming material side of me.

Are my days over or not?
A question that haunts me every moment,
But through this day I am carried away,
Through new roads and unknown faces,
From one side of life to the another,
The dreams are over and imaginations matured,
Nothing is over my soul said,
As I take another step of my own,
My own soul spoke another time,
“Those dark days still haunt,
The other side that left you astray,
Do not bury the half of you,
In that dark past but should raise,
Guiding through these new alleys,
Into your own self with love and for love.”

I turned around and back to alleys walked,
Where I heard the cry of my material soul,
As in those screams embedded are,
The whispers of my lost passions,
Even in the lusty wild rides I remembered,
To steal the glows in some eyes,
Now I realize in one of those hearts embedded are,
The spiritual completion of us.