Keira is just a teenager, a lover and devoted friend of literature.
This is probably the longest, and the most complex poem I've ever written. It suits my self appraisal, rethinking poems I wrote in a bugged up mood, makes me realize how important it is to have sad days. And no matter how hard it gets, and now matter how useless we think we are, we come out of the other end stronger.
I imagine this would be as important to you, as close it is, to my heart.
Second in this series, I can't wait to revisit this one.
What is happiness?
Inklings of hope riveting through rust?
Armored apologies, even those sown in dust?
or perhaps, its a reflecting song,
Two fine mirrors on a dining rug,
entangled in love
and entangled in disgust?
I stand over my virtue
Like a tapestry in stone
Feel over the carcass
And forget how it was sown
With cushions of gold,
And lined with pearls,
Caress away my figure,
While my skins burn,
I hover through nights,
I hover through days,
Sit still upon the polar
Then cry away seas of flames
I pull over a rusted cloak
And dust away it's ancient shade
Slowly merge within oblivion
Perhaps try a ruby-er cape?
Morrow I stand on broken strings
Free to leave, yet the throat is strained
Showered with love,
But searching for disdain
My far lost vision, a subtle cry of pain?
Opening my eyes to this godlike bong
Raining over my shoulders,
It's all a reflecting song
Two fine mirrors on a dining rug
Entangled in love
And entangled in disgust
You cannot die,
And would not, if you must
For there's love in misfortune
But there's happiness in mistrust
I often find myself lost in thoughts. Everyone knows the most they want from life, whether it’s an orphan, or a spoiled brother, happiness.
Yet no one has, and will ever understand what the word truly means. It’s unsettling to me, how we are all running towards this perfect life without even knowing what it is.
Through the poem, I create an image of a God, standing over his morals, that are all graced and protected within a gilded tapestry. He shows off his beauty, in the form of what he owns, but at the end of the day, goes to sleep knowing he is nothing beneath that persona, the one that hurts him, yet makes others praise him for it at the same time.
Sometimes, he wishes he could hide away beneath all the dusty and non-appreciable ancient things he’s borrowed from his father, and merge within the past. One where he didn’t exist.
But no matter how determined he is to leave, he wakes up the next morning, sleeping over the same tapestry that makes (breaks) him, who he is. He is loved by everyone, yet keeps searching for someone who’d see past his jewels, right at the fragile heart before them, and recognize his cry for help.
In his very visual dreams, he imagines crying over the beings of the Earth, and how one of them recognizes it as painful tears, and rushes to his help. At the end, he understands why he cannot escape, and forgets it every night before he sleeps.
The future is more of, an exact replica of it’s past, and anyone who tries to escape, gets caught up in this irrevocable fight between them and what’s coming for them, ultimately, trapping them as one, a single human being, full of love and disgust, at the same time.
© 2021 Keira Anand
Misbah Sheikh from The World of Poets on May 17, 2021:
Well done, Keira. I enjoyed it. The picture is so beautiful. You said this so true that the future is more, an exact replica of its past, and anyone who tries to escape gets caught up in this irrevocable fight between them and what’s coming for them. I agree. Brilliant!!
blessings and Peace
John Hansen from Queensland Australia on May 17, 2021:
An interesting poem, Keira, though I admit That my attempt at analysing it would have failed. You synopsis made it all much clearer when I reread it. Good job.