GLASS WORKS

A lunatic, a fool, a poet

A bite from the forbidden fruit

A curse man brought down upon himself,

the womb has been seeded

a devastation is yet to come,

And the castle’s crumbling,

So is the lonely soul that dwells in that ethereal prison,

 His robes will vanish

and amidst the ruins of lust and sin,

He’ll walk behind for days and weeks in lonely hours,

For the man of ancient soils often lies,

He conceals himself behind romance,

 redemption and retribution, 

Little does he know,

The paper kingdom;

He  glued together has crumpled,

He fell down

and he broke his own crown

So, he pointed his fingers

but no one was around,

So sad, a tragedy-ill fitted it was,

For I saw him work the sweat on his brow,

With fever, passion and strength

Bad comes to those who do good,

“ A lady; her charm, her curves and her perfections,”

I heard him say,

 And where did love leave him?

Where is she when his demons haunt him?

Where is she when his fingertips ache to brush against her contours,

Wasn’t love supposed to make you fly?

A lie! A Lie!

It will take you down to the darkest levels of a sulfurous pit,

oh the bitterness in his sweet laughter,

the angst of a betrayed lover,

the gloom clouding his misty eyes,

I’ll never forget that day,

It pains like a fresh scar,

To see his damp eyelids rest against a heated mantle,

what’s done is done and cannot be undone,

the fog hovers,

and the last bud in the darkening garden,

unhurriedly withers and fades away.      

-Eraj