Doubt Not

The dark horses
Of doubts,
If controlled not,
Shall take thy kingdom over.

And the seeds
Of distrust,
If left on their own,
Shall generate rotten trees.

Suspicion over
Matters of trivia
Leads to nowhere
But to the waste land,

Where thy survival
Probabilities are bleak.

Thou shall not be able
To peep out
Of the dim
Blocks of drab.

-- Praveen Kumar Singhmar.

Age

Observed a very old lady walking past me with the help of her wooden staff and the following words automatically flowed:

"This thing
Stands starkly
At my face
And laughs hard.
What makes it so blunt?
The thing grins back
Strikingly to my silver hair.
Then I recollect that
Time has put me down.
My possessions
And my adventures
Have worn out.
My tricks & talents
Ain't free anymore.
The thing looks at me
With grief & pity
And mocks at
My empty existence.
This thing sets
Puppets to
The best of my ability.

This thing
Has forced a change
To the color
And texture
Of my skin,
From smooth to creased.
It has diminished
The vision of my eyes,
From clear to hazy.
I can no longer see
Through my imagination.
The thing has damped
The layers of sight
And of ideas.
This thing has
Limited my limitless soul
To mediocrity.

This thing brings me
Closer to the truth,
To the inevitable reality.
It doesn't stop a second
Its process of decaying
The young to the eld.
This thing is called "Age"
And it wears people down.

And the moments
Of youth merely
Lingers long in mind.
Limitlessness of vigor,
All the dynamic energy
Folds itself to go away.
Shivering bones & limbs
Take over the course.
Time may heal
A painful heart,
But it cannot cure
The sufferings of aging."

 -- Praveen Kumar Singhmar.

#Poetry #OldAge #NewPoem #OldLady #Literature #LifeFacts #TheTruth

Loud doubts

How shall I proceed
With loud doubts
Tingling my head?
Brains bursting into pain,
Undecided about tomorrow,
Clueless about the future.
So blurred gets my vision
That I stand helpless, hapless,
Miserable, pitiful, poor, blind.

Two arrows I shot,
And they both moved away
Against the other.
What's destiny, what's life?
I hear nothing but noise.
Blunders, absurdities have crept in.
My own actions of thought deceived,
Ready to fall, halfway down,
I lack a laugh, I lack a cry.
Crossed all that was a good time.

Round and round they revolve,
Entangled wires of brain.
Push them out, for now they constipate,
Vex and perplex, puzzles they create,
And I merely breathe heavily in haze.
As my thoughts wander
From plane to plane,
Reality ceases to exist.

-- Praveen Kumar Singhmar
(03/02/2016)

Two splits

Portion of me

Is left behind,
Under the seed of rot,
Around the corrupt self,
That gives up for lust,
That can't expand,
That's still at unrest.

A piece of me
Tries and drags,
But the evil half-soul rejects
To move,
And such a decline
Brings forth to it
The elements
Of dirt.

 

And this part of me
Still seeks to
Revisit
The long forgotten
Ghettos of waste,
Of unnatural thirst.
This insane inmate just
Doesn't make an exit.

A greater lot of me
Rebels and revolts for
This half madman,
Splitting him into two
Reluctantly refusing to abide by
His whims and
His crooked fancies.

Crippled together,
Both splits of me,
Barely move forward,
And so remain shut
Indoors of gloom.

-- Praveen Kumar Singhmar.
(01/02/2016)