When push comes to shove

One of these cold nights

When darkness thrived

I made a tryst; a rendezvous with Vesper

An oval ball of light.

White, Serene, a symbol of tranquillity.

They call it the moon;

While lullabying others to sleep –

Myself to a pensive mood.

Why is it being so sarcastic?

Flashing that idiotic grin,

As if laughing at my loneliness.

Everywhere I look, everybody I see.

Is in a state of bliss.

In flights of fantasy, in search of peace.

I envy them, hate them, loathe them, resent them.

My quest for peace, my flights of fantasy,

Has brought me Hell.

Which I mistook for Heaven.

I pick up the syringe but the vial’s empty.

So are the crumpled tablet foils adorning the floor,

With the only furniture – empty bottles, wrappers and old journals.

My flight just ended.

I wonder, I speculate.

In distaste, I picked up my knife.

Ivory crafted, Sharp, Beautiful, Exquisite.

A piece of art, indeed.

Useful to cut Marijuana.

And my Veins.

In the horizon, I see the rising sun.

An opaque ball of fire.

Illuminating the dark and dreary.

A source of energy for them.

But dreadful for me.

‘Cos the tepid yellowness is brighter!

Brighter than the reddishness of my veins.


About Aiyushman Dutta

Who am I? Yet to find the answer. For the time being, u can call me a writer, maybe a journalist and a music entrepreneur or an errand boy! Whatever suits your fancy!

Posted on January 4, 2010, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. The Poem has a somewhat modernistic yet gothic subtleties crafted into itself, the very representation of despair. In introspect, I have discovered myself being turning into an aficcionado of your work!

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