Skip to main content

From Fame to a Flame

It was like music when it rained.
Pretty amusing when I gained.
Very abusing when it dawned,
That all of it; was a game.
I heard the music when it rained.

I sip on gold, I sip on fame,
My own desires in a frame,
My all emotions in a flame,
I should have known, it wasn’t water when it rained!

I think, I say.
I say, I think.
I was so thoughtful before it came.
And I wanted to dance, when it rained.
I thought you heard.
I called your name.
All my love,
All in vain.
I was so happy when it rained.

Now I am still.
Now I am cold.
I lose all power that I hold.
And now I am desperate.
Now in drain.
I long for that music when it rained.

I fooled myself in the fooling game.
I heard the music when it rained.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

ये जो माँ होती है

ये जो माँ होती है, अपने दिन-रात खोती है । बच्चों के आँसू पोंछ कर, खुद चुप-चाप रोती है । चलती है धुप में, हमें छाओं देती है । ये जो माँ होती है, सब चुप-चाप सेहती है । चूल्हे की आंच में, रोटियों के साथ तपती है । खिला कर पेट भर हमें, खुद भूखी सोती है । ये जो माँ होती है, सब चुप-चाप सेहती है । सब की खुशियों के लिए, अपने सुख भूलती है । सारे दुःख भुला कर, मुस्कुराना सीखती है । शब्दों में समझाना मुश्किल है, ये क्या होती है? ये जो माँ होती है, अपने बच्चों का आसमान होती है ।

The Moon

There’s a Moon above my head and it shines so bright. I stare in amazement and curiosity and delight. I have questions to ask; and I think I might. But when I try to ask, he bids me goodnight. There’s a Moon above my head and it shines so bright. I say, “Mr. Moon, being snooty is not right!” He smiles down at me, for he is polite. He says, “Dear girl, don’t judge me, alright! I have to fight the darkness to shine so bright.” “Oh Moon above my head! Can you sing me a song?” “Because, night is here and far away is the dawn.” So, Moon sings to me, the song of the Sun. The one who lives with desires, but none. There’s a Moon above my head and all his brightness fades. I ask him, “Why?” He says, “Dark shadows invade.” “Slowly each day, by piece I am torn. Only the Sun puts me together and I am reborn.” “Oh Moon above my head! Does the Sun possess all might?” “Dear little one”, he says, “He is the most generous and bright.” “He is a humble giv...