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The death of the sun

A little girl sitting alone in a tragic weather
By the roadside culvert, smashed a while ago
Anxious look permeates her sweet bloody face
She wants God to patch her mother back.

She, the daughter of a suicide bomber
A martyr in the words of the supporting few
The mother had lived her life fighting
For a cause, genuinely legitimate to her.

With looks of fear and dead anguish
The scars on the face began to tell her woes
Of a painful saga inflicted on the young one
Because she witnessed the whole, become pieces.

She cries, gently wiping her face
With the rag she holds dearly upon
A piece from her mother’s last worn dress
Before her mum, burst unto pieces unknown.

The mother is dead leaving the girl alone
By the roadside, she still awaits her mother’s hug
Whilst the trickling tears wasting the bodily liquid
The little girl suffers the greatest pain today.

The war between the titans born of devils
Have left the girl together with roadside gravels
Nowhere to go, and no place to call home
And, the worst has happened, a mother is gone.

A tale of a suicide bomber is hard and tough
None can match the spirit enshrined within
That the life as a token given for shadowy reason
The end anticipated, but the pain we don’t know.

The little girl emotionally explodes within
Layer by layer her pain began to swirl
Tough indeed her life will be without a mother
And, can we say her mother is last of its kind?
Possibly the daughter holds the same mind,
soon to become.

©cyclopseven. All right reserved 270907.

An encounter

My ramble took me far
Into the caverns beyond the star
Where darkness and light equally dwell
To make us always walk on razor’s edge.

The unknown darkness impenetrable easily
But at ease it conquer the caverns for ages
Where dinosaurs still roam wild
To pounce on us at our slightest slumber.

As my slumber gets deeper
In delusion I begin to wander
Under a tree I take shelter
From the sweltering heat of the day.

I see ghosts dancing in front of me
Seducing me with proposals
Pinching every cell in my body
To satisfy the finer urges, however wild.
Nasty indeed the ghosts that dances
They send fear deep unto the recesses
of my mind, which I thought is safe
and the ghosts have proven the insecurity.

My encounter with the ghosts
Are nothing but the billowing smoke
Of desires that rises unknowingly
They remind me that they are still there
And I need to tie them up
Before they do so on me.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 240907.

Are we really progressing?

Life is a winding path that runs from where we stand. I ponder at every second that ticks away, what is this life all about. Is it a merely coincidental or is a fine carving by a master craftsman? As I was typing away my assignment, my mind began its wild travel into this wonders to ponder. So, not wanting to force myself to sit and type scholarly assignment, I let my mind running loose on this mystery for a distant that time permits me.

Are we really progressing? As I sit here on the round table in front of my office and staring at the environment around, I am almost convinced that we are progressing. The high rise building that provides accommodations for millions, but again to compare with, there are still squatters and slum dwellers among us. The motor vehicles that roar loud like a snoring lion too convinced me that transportation business is prosperous, but again to compare with, there are people who can’t afford to buy bicycles and what to say of motorcycles. I look around to see how and electricity and water suppies have moved within the convenient reach of the people, yet sad to say there are still people without that facilities and they go on using oil lamps to brighten their nights, water from well to wet their mouth and clean their bodies and to wash their clothes. I look around, telephone cables are gradually becoming invisible as wireless transmission is becoming popular, and everyone seems to be preoccupied with the talking business with hand phones in their hands. So many things have changed over the years and we come to accept that we are really progressing.

Are we losing something as we claim to be proud of this progress? Or are we just to ignore everything and continue our march to be within the scope of progression. I turned 360, I began to see the impact of modernization which has creep into our very beings. We all are rushing from ‘nowhere to nowhere’. This is the reality. Our senses, continually being bombarded with external stimulus, and we let our faculty of discrimination to fail us most of the time, just to enjoy the pleasure of the moment, out of the so called modernization.

Where does this modernization taking us to? Are we sharing the world with others or are we gradually widening the gap among the members of the society, under the banner of progress? It’s good to see progressive elements in the society. There a lot of good factors around that benefit us. But, nothing comes without a price tag on it. And, know what? The modernization has created two holes of selfishness and fears within us. The modern world, despite reducing the physical gaps between man, have spiritually distance them, thus there is a thirst for spirituality in this world. People do not know who they are actually. They try to become everyone they come across. If these two factors of fear and selfishness diminished, then we have every reason to celebrate the progression towards modernization.

Everyone is conscious of their own existence, own pleasures and wanting and self-satisfactions. Including me too. So, when change within going to take place. We are rob our values by succumbing to our own mental ruckus and we are degenerating in every ways we can possible think of.

Modernization is not a sin or a crime. But, to be strayed from our traditions, family values and individual values under the name of modernity is definitely sinful. Our own attitudes towards life and the world around us will be the yardstick to measure the impact of a modern world on us. While we go on enjoying every opportunity that appear to us, we must also create opportunities for those who are living a live lesser than us. Modernization gains its value, only when humanity is valued.

Errors under your tender care.
Mistakes are mine.
Corrections are yours.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 230907.

Beautiful dried leaves

I sit watching

The brown leaves
That decorates
The field.

How divine they look?
I am in awe
Inspiring beauty
Of dry leaves
Lying bare
On the grass.

Are they dead?
I asked repeatedly.
Nay.
I don’t think so.
How can the dead
Cast an attraction on us.

The brown leaves
Dried though
Carries within
The metamorphosis
Of nature’s law
To beautify
And decompose
With dignity.

Nature’s ingenuity
A genius hidden
In the dryness of the leaves.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 230907.

What may become??

one day I shall depart
unto the unknown deepest slumber
I shall be gone
leaving behind all the smiles and tears.

I know one day I shall be gone
unto the mysteries of unknown
stepping aside all the experiences
in this world, called earth.

I shall leave
my loved ones
my friends
my foes
my likes
my dislikes
and wander, I may
in an unknown world.

I don't know if these feelings
that I have now called attachment
or when I leave, will the feelings
be detached?

Will I be thrilled
to leave this world
and this body?

Will I mourn my own death?

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 220907.