Imagination and Saptarshi

  Patience It is a gift of Bliss to have patience, A prolific symbol over a sordid Strive; Though in motion we live, in stillness We breathe, A foreboding loss of vehemence and pride. A thing we sought, in a life of need_ Where people stray to find; It is Wait, the patience of uncertain joy That gives us a peace of mind. For Beauty we worship, Even the incapability of our hold, Still, for being ugly can we disown  The distinction of pure Gold? There begins the drama of life, All emotions got a role to play; A knight called sadness slays the king, Happiness by name or it may! The play moves to Act V, Where we wait for the End; A climax is the last thing, Believe me, even I would faint! Bless thee! For Patience, The audience kept their seats; It enriches the manacles of Seekers at their forsaken forfeit! For what we wait in oblivion of life, All pangs and sorrows, answer me! Don’t be dumb to swear the name, Almighty knew who he is_ He kept us alive, he makes us to believe In tom...

  A Phantom of a Dead Sea I sunk through the Stairway to hell, Now it’s so heavy how I feel, Like a boulder on my chest And a nail, nailed in my heart. I question thee, Have you ever felt like this? Like buried alive in midwinter Or being alone in the deepest pits of earth. I hear a shrilling scream_ In fear I looked up, though The sun is shining still, Only black rays I see, only black rays I feel. On my skin it leaves the mark Of a rinsed cloth and a dead bark. But I, with the sensation of bleak, Feeling the numbness on my fingertips: And whatever it touches, Starting to beat like a pulse, Though the origin is blank, A fruitless phantom of dead impulse. Background - "An Abstract painting of a Sea " Now it a depressing poem that I wrote in my days of quarantine. And it actually strikes pretty well. Hope many of you can relate to the tone of this poem. I felt shabby sometimes, like sinking in a river or whatever and finding that there's no one besides me. I lose hope; the...