wound
life, Love, Nature, poetry

Souls Die Young

A ruby heart which snapped and fell apart in 

two as it couldn’t hold the jolts of  young

lovers gone sour.

Those translucent  blue veins where once ran the

streams of ancient Nile and Ganges freely like

the fountains of voluptuous youth,

Those courses now run parched and wasted. 

On whose rocky banks civilizations of prosperity 

thrived like transient bubbles-of hope, forever in 

fears  to be drowned in the folds of the foamy 

azure shades.    

That Herculean soul now frigid trapped in gory

casket as if  a dilapidated mansion,  outgrown 

 by ferns echoing in faint voices, 

one more soul down!  

one more spirit broken!

That soul gave up on life much before the mortal

body is laid to rest in the pits of  ashen Earthen

grounds.

For Souls die young while body painfully longs 

to get old! Souls die young! 

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Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Inspiration, Love, Nature, Spirtual

The Loveliest Soul Of All!

One fine day, the prophet of love summoned his four apostles to bring forth,

the most lovable soul, the emissaries laughed for bestowing upon the task so

basal” how difficult it would be?” Grinned the one with an air of disdain but

with the task in hand and the urgency of the prophet, the four proponents glided

in opposite directions to search for the soul  loveliest of all!

 

First encountered a lover embracing his beloved vowing to lay his humble life

for love, the apostle heavy-hearted flew back after making a note, the second

apostle came upon a man of who held an expensive banquet in the name of immortal

love, having made a note too he soared back on his winged clouds to the prophet.

 

The third prophet had a rare rendezvous with a blind poet, writing love ballads on

dry leaves, the apostle had tears in his eyes and feeling assured  he met the most

lovable soul in the world, went back to the prophet. The last apostle wandering whole

day in vain discovered a farmer delicately burying a little pomegranate in moist soil

 

Bewildered for the apostle has never seen such sight went close and heard “my poor

baby pomegranate couldn’t breathe onslaught of storm anymore,” the apostle went

back to prophet disappointed for not meeting the lovable soul he bet. Each emissary

narrated shares of their soul’s glory, after a patient hearing, the prophet proclaimed

the humble farmer burying his pomegranate fruit of having the soul loveliest of all!