Thursday, November 12, 2009

My Tired Prayers

Someone’s standing in front of me

Someone’s asking me my name

They’re seeing what they have to see

And thinking of someone to blame


I can see the breeze, I can feel the sky

I can think of life, I can think of death

Of broken whispers, of birds that die

And of this holy soil - her tender blue breath


My life’s just a handful of dust and butterflies

The countless battles I’ve lost, the few ones I’ve won

And light, and darkness, and other sweet lies

I can’t dream anymore, Mother, forgive this fallen son


I have woken up with time and now I must go to bed with it

In between it’s the green, it’s a voice from the sea so dry

Those ticking clocks, the echo mocks, my very own heartbeat

I’ve nothing to give, sweet mother, but for this faithless cry


Colours to paint the void, and words to stitch the curtain

Heroes of iron and flames, damsels of wax and plastic

Villains with hideous names – their defeat seems so certain

The stage’s set, the sky’s wet, but the eyes make me sick


Render unto thy own soul – holy words they'll preach

But those saints – they don’t feel what they say

They haven’t seen the beast, haven’t heard it screech

I screamed out for help and they just turned away


Mother, I’ve lost my only song

Mother, I can’t breathe here anymore

Mother, this isn’t where I belong

Mother, did you have to open the door?


There’s a fire burning in some place

To fight this lonesome cold

Haven’t seen it, for I’ve lost the race

And now I’ve grown so old


I need to go home, mother, please take me back

Scold me for whatever I’ve become, I won’t mind a single thing

My eyes are dead, my feet are cold, my mind is black

Mother, please sing to me all those songs you once used to sing

3 comments:

Nightwing said...

this is the story of most people these days...but not many can express this beautifully...the truth in the poem is tremendous man..simply awesome..wish i could write like this...

the fire is not yet dead...

SarahA said...

You paint beautiful images in ones mind's eye with your words written and I am thinking, so many could relate to this.

Soumi said...

Jawkhon chawltey shuru kawrechhilam,bujhtey pari ni etoTa eka hawey jabo.