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Jealousy

Image : 'I hate humans'
Courtesy : bendragon.blogspot.com
 

Buried in a self created grave
Where the world lay in deep sleep,
Between undiluted wrath which
Pours pangs of targeted grief,
Our habits are allowed for torture.

What we retrieve as memoirs are
Uneventful days of passionate dreams,
When Eros flew around to spread a
Golden weave of lust, to entrap
Our innocent thoughts and poison
It with a dark potion of grudge.

As the poison spread, we fall
Into a trance devoid of charm,
Which we later coin as a slip
Towards the gorges of love,
But what the mind let pass,
Is the slow death of a comrade.

Can we cipher the unwritten
Words out of our past?
Could we pen it down like
A poet? Maybe then we would
Glimpse the grave where we lie, and
Rediscover our thoughts before they die.

 

Comments

  1. Mary1 September 2013 at 04:04

    It is interesting to think about what memories we choose to keep and which we do not. Some of the memories are indeed not so pleasant...and can be hard when rediscovered. A thoughtful poem here.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Gemma Wiseman1 September 2013 at 04:38

    Sometimes our reality is a trance-like dream. Take away the trance and we see another reality begging old, neglected ideas to be re-visited. Interesting poem.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Charleen1 September 2013 at 05:32

    You nailed it in the first line... it is all about choice.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Natašek1 September 2013 at 05:37

    "What we retrieve as memoirs are
    Uneventful days of passionate dreams" - this is such a raw realistic picture. and I also love the thought in the end.. brilliant in fact.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Brian Miller1 September 2013 at 06:11

    this has pops from the begining...a self created grave....strong description of just what it is.....nice circle back to that grave in the end as well....

    ReplyDelete
  6. Sherry Blue Sky1 September 2013 at 09:33

    Wowzers! That closing stanza is phenomenal! This is a deeply reflective poem to read, and you knock it out of the park with the last stanza.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Lisa A. Williams1 September 2013 at 14:28

    This is an amazing poem, filled with introspection and soulful questions.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Unknown2 September 2013 at 05:28

    This is a fantastic conveyance of one's own regret concerning that which was not written or conveyed. Very well penned. Thank you for sharing it.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Other Mary2 September 2013 at 06:33

    Powerful words here. My favotire lines are, "Can we cipher the unwritten/
    Words out of our past?" And the whole last stanza is excellent.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Anand9 September 2013 at 22:37

    Thanks to one and all. It is your appreciation that keeps me going. :)

    ReplyDelete

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