Friday, July 4, 2008

Contemplations of a Blind Mother

Your thoughts manifest themselves
In the blot of color that swells
On the curtain of my shut eyes
Your soothing tone that belies
The seething anger you store
Too civil to bring to the fore
I don’t see the smoldering scowl
For I see nothing at all
Though you take good care of me
I know the weight I can be
Perhaps it would be for the best
If I cease to be such a pest
Stop being the source of your strife
And not be a part of your life
Then maybe you would get back
Your colors lost in my black
The smiles that I drain away
In the shadowy pits where I stay
If only… If only…
The keys of death I could find
To free you from the ties that bind

- Himanshu

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