There is a popular story of 2 plants.
One plant grew quite tall overnight. While the other wasn't growing very fast. Everyone told the second plant to keep hope and that one day he will grow taller than the other and it happened. Everyone says moral is to keep hope and you will be successful.
But nobody ever considered the other plant whose growth stopped after one day. Who reached its peak fast but started to decay from there. Whose life was stagnant while the other plant grew and grew. How it felt, what was going in its mind will be addressed in this poem
Sunlight flowing through my vein
Speak o speak of undying pain
Leaves that breathed life to all
Speak o speak of chasting fall
Admiration set in every eye
That looked at me while passing by
Somewhere i lost my poise and grace
And lost were all those claps of praise
Twigs that snapped but are holding on
Speak o speak of the days bygone
Roots that chased after lively streams
Speak o speak of subdued screams
One day i woke to the hymns of love
Being sung upon by warbles and doves
Perched beneath the canopy of evergreen
Which shadowed me but was once unseen
Coolness flowing beneath my skin
Speak o speak of wilting within
Numbness overtaking every nerve
Speak o speak of fate's sharp curve
I questioned myself what am i
If not dead, i yearned to die
Stagnant phases never lie
Made me ask myself "why"
Petals dancing in the breeze
Speak o speak of thy brainfreeze
Tiny Buds yet to bloom
Speak o speak of impending doom
I tried to crush her roots by force
By blocking water, changing their course
I tried to make her life a misery
By mocking away birds by trickery
Spirals aging on my trunk
Speak o speak of nature's junk
Grandeur favouring the late riser
Speak o speak what makes him wiser?
Early glory lost its way
In the maze of fame it wandered away
Maybe it even wanted to stay
Searching for the exit to this day
Heavens that housed my pride for long
Speak o speak where i was wrong?
Earth that clung to my roots till last
Speak o speak what changed the past?
Speak fine poet my faithful friend
Speak o speak is this my end
Speak in poetry keep me penned
Scream o scream this is not the end
YOU ARE READING
Willful Verses
PoetryWords. Words are power, words are hope, words are comfort and words are strong. Specially when they are intertwined into beautiful strings of lines which weave into verses and ultimately gives us warmth in the form of a poem. Everyone has there un...
