Thursday, November 20, 2008
do you feel the pain....
When life is weighing you down when there’s no way to go
When your love leaves you midway and heart bleeds everyday
Do you know the pain when you can hardly cry?
Not because there’s no sadness but because your eyes are dry...
The tears have dried up and there’s not a drop left to flow
The heart does not stop bleeding and the memories wont go
Is life unfair to me or is it my destiny's tyranny?
My woe is not one I am surrounded by many
Is my life a joke was I never meant to be?
A cruel one to live with god! please set me free.
Death does not appear a difficult destination
''What pleasure to die' says the crushed spirit in me
Did you ever see the tears that shadowed my laughter
Did you ever hear the cry behind my smile
The only reason to smile, you were all I ever had
Or so I blindly believed forgive me I was mad
And yet I had always grieved you and gave you lot of pain
And then my heart bleeds and aches for you again.
Life’s like that…

In the dark of the night, in the deep of the soul
the entire being struggles and wails
the pain unbearable to this frail mortal
and the tears give way, one following another
reaching out in the dark for a helping hand
for an understanding heart and a loving word
crying out in the heart for a familiar face
someone who knows all, someone who cares
all trials failed and all arguments lost
confused and exhausted lay beneath the stars
physically weak and mentally drained
incapable of thought or action or speech
like a deer brought to the brook of living waters
and does not know how to drink of it
miserable is the soul rendered blind by the heart
dying of thirst but reluctant to sip
the options are not many but one if any
the destiny is clear or blurred by the tears
the choice is to drink from the brook
or to invite death brought from the thirst
'self imposed' and 'foolish' it seems
to all who see through the worlds view point
but tell me my friend would the fish fall in the net if it knew its destiny?
or the lamb not run away if it knew that it would be slaughtered?
some call it destiny some call it luck
still some don't shy away to judge those in strife
whatever we call it or think about it a lot
no one can understand it for this, my friend, is life
Broken and Burning
The broken Christ on a Burning cross….
A Picture taken in one of the vandalized churches in Orissa in the ongoing communal violence.
Broken fingers and a broken hand
the Saviour on the Cross is hanging
crucified yet again in our selfish hearts
the personification of love is bleeding
as we nail him again, each day anew
the sacred blood flows down to the pew
the arms of hatred and violence raise
to break the legs and hands that bless
to satisfy the evil wants, the greediness
the selfish thoughts and the sinful hearts
Is Christ their enemy or the innocent lives
or the message that talks of love sublime?
the bitterness that piles in them
the intolerance that rages in them
Is this the answer to the love that calls
with arms open wide on the ’s cross?
The broken Christ on the burning Cross
is silent once more to the torture and woes
with silence that deafens, a silence that grieves
a silence that strengthens the heart which weeps
the message is clear and loud to all
it calls us to wake up to the truth around
to pick up our cross and follow Christ
HIS mission is ours for we are HIS arms
the broken hands and the bleeding feet
we HIS loving eyes and HIS love filled words.