The hidden caves of my mind
The intensiveness and the vulnerability of relations make them them the most elusive and sought after asset of this world.
The day my God died
Of all the vague memories in my mind,
I can see a proud father making his child name the garden flowers.
He can foresee his prodigy scaling new heights
With himself being right beside his child
Looming His ever so strong aura over him.
But the rosiness was indeed a duck over a sheet of water
Little did the world know that Fate was clawing vigorously underneath!!
On came the avalanche, shattering everything in its wake,
Everything that the father could muster and make
Was tattered, shattered and ripped in the Devil’s wake
Now, that the tempest has come to the fore
The child for one just wants to make it a gruesome lore
Can’t they buy some more time and wish for some more sunshine
For ’twas just the dawn and the birds coudn’t even set sail!!
The child sees old, wrinkled and freckled people around him
And he also sees young people with pain on their faces for the old ones
But suddenly, he finds himself standing out in the crowd
For he, unlike others, want his father freckled and wrinkled
He has this unsatiable desire to watch his father all old and freckled!!
He is afraid that he may never know his “Old Father”
The world lives on a false hope, hanging on a cut thread,
But the boy finds himself so far down, away from the Light.
He knows Fate’s fiendish plans but finds himself in its dark abyss.
The boy wonders,
Is it too much to ask to see his own father grow old?
To give him some of the joys which his father had showered on him all his life
How long can the boy live on with all these turmoil in him?
The taper is burning in its full brilliance with the wax all around it melting,
And the boy tries to sell his soul to keep the flame burning.
Is it all too little, too late?
Will the boy’s wish never come true?
Uncontemplating, both the father and the son keeps on believing the big hoax
And let their dreams waver like a broken rogue twig amidst a gale!