Tuesday, February 3, 2009

That Urge of Yours

I know this urge of yours
To pay someone to make a
Vegetable out of me
Consign me then into a corner.
Derelict as would I lie there
Making space for you to
Exercise your power over me.

I know this urge of yours
To kick me out from all
What I know and rejoice,
From all those peaks of
Careless but beautiful choice.
Then push me into the depths
Of tears and despair
Without giving a damn or care.

When I told you that I saw heaven
You told me that you are tired
Then I came to you with
A drop of nectar on my lips
You sent me out by saying
That you have no thirst.
I said I have wings,
You laughed at me and said,
That was just cotton filings.

Cotton balls can’t fly unto stars
As I do by nights after nights
Moth wings cannot move
A mountain, but let me tell you
They can resonate the music
Of celestial spheres.
Words come to me so easily
The way venom comes to you
And the stings so natural.

I may turn blue of cold
A slab of ice may freeze me to size
Still my blood will carry the germs
Of an unborn rebellion of love,
Which would wait for
The right time to sprout:
What comes from earth
Should go back to it, they say.

I see the great urge of yours
To erase me from your life.
But I am a history engraved on rocks
Only to be discovered by someone
With butterfly for his fingers.

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