In the silent shadows of your great, great towers –
your missions and truths of endless powers,
lie a race of my most humble men.
Weak and fragile, we cower and we run,
we do whatever it is that you want to be done.
We speak simple things and we stay low
like we should.
and We nod our heads like we understood.
And so it has been for many a thousand year.
But...
even in the deep forests, do sometimes giant trees are fallen.
And the deafening roar of a maddening tidal wave
is preceded by the utter silence.
A quiet for a thousand years now,
I shudder to imagine how devastatingly loud
the madness now will be.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Rumblings in the forest
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4 comments:
the last line is magic!
The madness...ahaha...ki abhinay ki kontthoshyor...Mukunda Lahiri...Sirji...madness - in language.
@Yash: Am glad you like it :)
@Ghentu: Kontthoshyor :D Not my favorite poem really, I think its too dramatic & insincere. But I was feeling very angry when I wrote it, so I guess it is important enough to be published & preserved.
The nth reading was really refreshing. Thanks. The poem has phrasing and hence, music.
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