Skip to main content

 

Swarm of Locusts

A wall—dense, dark, foreboding—
crawls closer, rattling with menace.

Some hide,
fear-stricken, helpless.
Some in preparation,
to annihilate the destruction,

Some- Calm, silent, unaware—
Detached in an intoxicating dream.


From afar,
the thickening darkness looms,
deepening in its relentless rhythm.
Forked tongues lash out,
ready to devour.
The third eye, blazing embers,
threatens to incinerate all.

One thought echoes through all:
trees will be trampled,
mountains crushed,
rivers and streams erased,
leaving desolation in their wake.

A strange hum
Piercing everyone’s ears. 

They sit huddled, watching in fear—
Uncertain of when this
Uncertain of when this madness will pass.

 --------------

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

  Notes Toward a Mountain At the sight of distant hills something restless moved within me. I followed a rhythm not named, a private summons beating faintly in the heart. The path turned and returned on itself. At places, marsh. At places, stone and thorn that tore the skin of intention. Yet the summit persisted, reappearing in the mind, insistent. I walked on, inventing the way as I went, ignorant of jackal, scorpion, snake. Now the ascent. No visible track. What had seemed, from a distance, marvellous stood near at hand as brute accumulation, tree and rock without promise. Water spoke everywhere, yet showed itself nowhere. The cries of animals merged with birds, with the thin friction of wind. Let me pause. Let me speak sense to the heart. Why should what appeared miraculous from afar now instruct me in fear? My shadow lengthened beyond me. Perhaps it was already evening. I advanced slowly, breathing the weight of the moment, appealing without words to what surrounded me. Silence...
Post a Comment
Read more
  Footprints Whenever I look at the sea, a shiver runs through me, a trace of envy rises watching the swelling, spreading waves. The sea scatters its colors along the shore— waves heavy with shells arrive in anger, yet squander their riches on a single pearl or two. One after another, countless, they reach the shore and disappear again. I watch flocks of circling birds— diving at the sight of the waves, catching fish, then rising back into air. Shell or pearl— both are left behind on the sand. I have heard the sea shelters an entirely different world within itself. The water may be salty, yet it is not separate from my world— we are not apart from one another. Moving with the waves, along the edge of the shore, over this sand, I keep walking. I watch my footprints fade beneath the waves— sometimes erased in anger, sometimes as if laughing. -----------------
Post a Comment
Read more
  Blank Paper With a blank sheet in hand, I try to sketch a picture. Breathing life into it, I watch it vanish, disappearing in the next moment. Smiling, I gaze at its fading form, dancing as smoke, twisting into nothingness. Now I fill the blank pages with whispers of thoughts, echoing in the dark caverns of my mind, only to vanish with the sunrise, leaving behind the blankness— a canvas untouched. They say he roams the desolate desert now, a mirage himself, drawing errant lines— sometimes grass, sometimes clouds, sometimes stars, sometimes lakes. Sketching endlessly, breathing life into fleeting dreams, scattering woven hopes along his path. And yet, always by his side: a blank page and a whirlwind of thoughts. ----------------------------
Post a Comment
Read more