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9 Aug 2012


Posted by Oblivion in Poetry | 7:33pm

quiet of the night
was lullaby for the kid
sand was the bed
and the sratlit sky,
the luring fairy tale

the earth and the expanse
the sea, the bird in flight
and every blade of grass
were, in play, mates 
loyal, as the shadow

days, sprightly and bright
held surprises aplenty
of the sleight divine
nights, the secret roads
to the land of stories

tripping lightly, ever
on the sands of time
even the flit, gentle
of a restless butterfly
meant a glint of joy

blue of the sky
was the canvas of dreams
that eyes would weave
and the drops of rain,
whispers from heaven

the kid, in haste, then
clocked the years quick
and traded play for work
joy for stupefying pride
and life for living

the stars have fallen
the moon, usurped
by the clouds all murky
the dust has settled
under the jaded feet

yet grass, green with hope
still beckons for play
but besieged he is
too deep in the ugly
to have an eye for beauty

every whiff of spring
betrays the lull warmth
every wave of winter
marks a cold reminder
of forgotten fairy tales
into what mire of trivia
does one sink!
to join the ranks
of a world shrewd
in the race of the dead

ah, what he is now
but a pale remnant
of the life gone by
and a morbid lead
of the drag to be

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