By
Sanju Clement
Melody of Melancholy
( when you live )
when you live, live with a blessed White Rose
of redolent serenading drizzle, chivalry of the lighting,
honesty of the risks and kisses, Spanish shore of the soul,
vibing musk of the mounts
or, if you are alone like the word “I”,
when 7pm falls from the graying eyes of the sky,
wear the un-oscillating and the snowing-white solitude
of the masculine moon who is the purest
heir of the sunlight, with no ex-
pectations for blinks imposing, extreme arguments
for respect or interpreting wings for paradising.
( but, when you die )
but, when you die, forget not to die, die in a filtered–
forest of pilgrim naturalness, attended by
broken winged blue birds, holiday of greenest–
breeze and offline herbivorous–haikus, but not on the lap
of any tearfully breathing statues, or on the bosom
of your beloved’s duplicate silence; which/who is the relative
of the fleeting spark of the first flint stone.
yes, when I die, I’ll die forever, I’ll die praying for catharsis
I’ll die on the caring and the uncomplaining
lap of a forgiving forest.
because, I longed for a lasting light of life (for mutual –
illuminations) instead of love, love gave me infinite lavas . . .
O! Death, after my death, take not my breath
blend it in breeze for my beloved to breathe
to truly live in her heart and to truly soothe her soul
so, I am blessed a thousand births even if she breathes me out!
(beyond eternity)
un-edited pains and love poems resurrect in best–
sailing–organs; they will be best read in the second–
childhood–eyes of the beloved!
in perfect lines they will breathe from soul and so,
unwilling to get chained in the cooing circles of any
fleeting–rhyme or passing fascination, as long as the super–
novas stop in every youthful but distant stellar–stuff
best lovers are everywhere, from earth up to eternity!
they only know and teach that love is the cause
of melancholy; so, they only will die and resurrect, daily,
with new eyes, new heart, with new tears and new smiles
for purest love, and once, to lift heaven into their drizzling–
green–life and (beyond eternity) . . . . . . .
carving out the last twilight–blood of despair from the final
but thinnest dream which was like the broken–branch
of a butterfly, Sunlight smiles and welcomes a prayer,
a harmless–despondent–prayer, for it believes in the grow–
ing roots . . the loveliest roots of the eternal darkness.
because, the darkness will always make and enlighten his day,
everyday as today!
life: “I like your last dream, give me that on a chalice
of daylight, I am so hungry, so, I’ll eat that birth by birth,
for, it has the word and the colour of ‘I’ think”!
Sunlight: “I don’t remember even the first cry on my lips
when I was born;
but,
the world will remember the last smile on my lips
when I am gone . . . . . . . !”
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