Stranger in strange land

Strange is the land on which he treads
seeking blood for vengeance within
he stops and sniffs, yes there is hatred here
someone will fall for the false hope again
some eyes will always be moist
some hearts will beat with deception
someone will be every ones fool

he enters a cave marked red
a thousand eyes stare back unconvinced
they have seen the ascent
they have witnessed the retreat
the darkness engulfs him now
and yet he keeps walking along
something is squelching under his feet
some faded whimpers, some squealed threats
he can't see what he treads on
unseen unnoticed unforgiven,
they die under his feet

just as sudden is the advent of light
his feet are red, blood red, red
his hand still holds the sword of malice
and he wears the shield of ignorance
forever protected in his own heaven
oblivious of any agony but his own
he yearns for satisfaction
he yearns for instant gratification

It keeps raining

It keeps raining
everything has become damp
I can feel the mist inside my head
wooden doors don't close anymore
windows don't shut to keep the water out
I feel like drowning in this flood
and it keeps raining still

The food i eat is moist with water
thoughts are laden with crumbling wetness
eyes are always on verge of tears
skin yearns for some dryness someplace
someplace without the slimy touch
the rot is rot deep now
and it is raining still

the haze in my mind is getting dense
the coldness of solitude disturbs me
it plays peek-a-boo
catching me unawares each time
clouds have cluttered out all the light
I ride around desperately
seeking golden sunshine
and yet it rains still
it rains cats and dogs

Lost Cause

A thousand ships sail towards sun
each one carrying the hope of life
each searching for the island of life
sails set high, urgency in air
cover the maximum ground
or drown in the star dust
burnt by sun, skin peeling off
they still manoeuvre the vessel
charting set co-ordinates
under the shade of stars

the last of the scions
the last of the czars
the last of humanity
all bundled up inside
scrouging over morsels
already inhuman
they are the lost hope
oblivious of the fire
concerned about nothing
they fight the trivialities

No redemption sought
yet the men at top
toil so hard
to set the right course
time will make them see perhaps
the cause that was already lost

The land white
sky purest of blue
settlements rising on distant hills
taking the form of the hill
the lines of slope
going all the way up to the hilltop
then suddenly bursting into a monastery
flags flying high
chants flowing along with wind
people humbled by nature
searching the meaning of life
yet life continues in the wretches of nature
no rain, no snow, a few lakes and desolation
a cold desert, with a few specks of life
hard mountains, soft valleys
a few passes here and there
here nature is unforgiving
it will eat you alive if you stray
no help for thousands of miles
and yet people want to live
no conveniences of a sprawling metropolis
no rapid transport systems
a lonely walk down the hill to fill water
a steep climb uphill to the destination
life slowed down to enable sustenance
life slowed down to a breathtaking reverie