Old Man's Tale and a few more

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A gothic ralistic inspired poem on human captivity and fallacy....few more bonus works added

Submitted: October 22, 2014

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Submitted: October 22, 2014

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The Old Man's tale

Sitting by the sidewalk,as people passed by
many,few;not what he saught,never to stop he tried
Haggard he looked, draped in robes fragile and bleak
people he saw many ,none he did seek

of three he wondered,of three he spoke
"O grant me my three, my getaway from misery
leave me no thought of the past, of thee
I render no longer, this from which I cannot flee"

A young one, a middled aged , an octogenarian
Quoth the old man, "Grant me my minions"
Last but not the least , a naive retrospection
Of all these people , I seek for narration

Along came the school kid, returning from school
bag in hand, innocence of a fool
Rapt he stood, as the Old Man's eyes shone
"Praise thy O Lord, Grant me two More"

A Middle aged man walked briskly, in hand his phone
cared not for this peasant, this beggar or his lore
Yet those eyes held his gaze, a momentary gaze 
Interested he now was, to listen to his tale

Bound on the wheel chair,came by a senior
wizened by years, now invalid not inferior
he stood almost cold,with no prior intention
a crooked smile from a wily face, had caught his attention

"O I implore my three;to listen, I regale
a tale of my past,but better beware
Such wisdom,I pass to wizen you for ages
yet its burden shall be great, so be courageous"

"I speak of times, of times and ages gone by
When I was young, still a tender child
I saught but not, yet my actions were so
a bully I was , Every inferiors foe"

"Pain they endured,embarrasment too many
the agony I caused were one too many
One amongst them, I wish not to name
A timid little soul,endured but only pain"

"Oh on that ungrateful day, that ungrateful hour
I forget not;bear witness did but the stars
An act so heinous, even the cold shall quiver
push I did the kid but into a river"

"Screams of help fell but on deaf ears
the ones that hear,consumed but by fear
O such an act,such misery to see
a cry so vibrant and pleading but for mercy"

"Forgiveness I did not ask, never did I know 
I stood grim as I saw, a descending black crow
Accuse it did, cawing is mighty lungs off
I trembled,feared;ran,never but stopped"

Forget I did,like every mortal can
nobody knew the cause, for such a sordid act
A crow alone bear witness,sitting now by the porch
"O what can you do I smiled, you are but only a crow"

Years ticked by, affluence fell by me for good
the naive youth had paved way, for a robust manhood
Forgotten was the past, like I never know
But for the visits, of the senile old crow

Facts i dont remember, age makes me vague
Vague I tell you , are those heydays
It must have been a woman or money or power
Why else would a man ever sink any lower

A strapping youth he was, Idolised me
maybe a rival too, my memory fails me
yet he had, at his disposal what I need
So I committed , but a vile,horrendous deed

"Wait for a moment,interject If I may
Was he a rival , a friend in this story you say
Say more of this deed, this sinful remedy"
quoth the middle aged man to the narrating wrinkly

Forgetful I have grown, the memory grows vague
Disturb not the tale,be an object of my rage
the deed but was done, a heinous one to say
blood on my hands,all around me but grey

Rejoice I did, the contention too great
fear simmered not, in glory of the day
Yet a presence I felt, I turned raised my brow
Who but to find, the witness bearing crow

Why you taunt me so, why the prejudice?
I ask thee to flee, begone you unholy device
I care not for your presence, you soul wrenching cries
Nor your agonizing, vengeful eyes

As with all mortals, I too realised
My past had caught up, remorseful my plight
All I had, yet a beggar inside
the day had witnessed , a sorrowful slide

On that fateful night, dreary not sober
I saw that black fiend,over me hover
"I have come to claim, to claim from you
The fullest retribution,retribution of two" 

Scream I did, In misery and agony
"O save me,o Spare me, from vengence of thee
Spare me from death, bestow upon me O dark one
Gift of life, my soul my very own, I give thou"

"Sins of years expunged not by your soul
Satan too shall not; have such infamy, such foul
Sufferings I claim of thou, henceforth not free
Live thou shall eternity,till you narrate to three"

"Three souls shall hear, three of purity
listen they shall, to your misery
thou burden shall cease; embrace sweet death shalt thee
if forgiven from heart , wholeheartedly by all three"

Day was to rejoice, yet joy never came
immortality was worse, A stinging, seething pain
the penance hence began, in merciful melancholy
I wandered the world, with this weary malady

Each day so heavy, such burden to bear
the joy of immortality had paved way to hate
kill me I cried, day after day
Eons passed, but never was I slayed

Many I narrated, to many I may
three I search for, the three i pray
lament no longer I do at my cause
in agony is lost all virtues and flaws

I stand henceforth, begging before thee
can you find in your heart, to forgive but me?
share my burden please, please set me free!
let this wretched soul, from this world but leave!

Quoth the kid, timid as ever
such a story his young ears had heard never
"I forgive you mister, yet my words may seem sully
I too till thus, was but a lowly bully "

Quoth the Man, resonant and sound
"What you did old man I too am bound
yet path you strew I shall never
Consider yourself pitiably forgiven"

Thus turned all to the old man by the wheel chair
spoke he now a hoarse little voice, a cold piercing stare
"Of sins you seek redemption; yet in me pity, I cannot gather
Askance of this forgiveness you do from a victim's father?"

"of pain, of misery, of freedom you seek 
each prose of contempt, of far greater sins they reek
grant you forgiveness? I cannot commit such a blunder
Many years shall not quench, in agony thou shalt wander " 

Hence left three more, the old one to his misery
his life an agonizing ode to human tragedy
emotions failed to register on his contour pitiable
gazing the dark skies he only meekly but fumbled 

Slowly he walked, trudging ever so in sorrow
Many nights like this, many more morrows
his burden he had, for many years to go
by the porch sat and watched, but a black crow

- Brooding

 

Untitled

waves clash by the rocks, colliding with such colossal might
yea bear they my infinite sorrowful plight?

plight such plight, writ but of blunders and blight

Consumed in misery, I write of wrongs and rights

chosen not, yet contrived upon
created not, yet chanced upon
a sight it is deplorable, to hear a man lament
like a minstrel gone cacophonous, in-congruent

reasons shall not, you be bored with
nor causes, inferences and plots herewith
melody digests, all left unblemished
churns but the truth, naked beneath

tarnished by years of displeasure
yet minutes of passionate fervour
impulsive ones, have no past or future
they comb the present aimless, yonder and hither

Clouted to the final verse, drenched in averse poignancy
crimson grey curtains, of misery pour away in agony
farewell O future so paranoid and brittle
quoth I do this prose untitled

-brooding

 

 

An Anonymous Letter

 
A letter was written, a story was told
of pain, of suffering, of joy and jocund
to thee wrote he, my lord omnipotent
the plight of a soul, obliterated yet defiant
 
He began with words, each filled with passion
fearsome, exciting, infuriating aggression 
of naive days, of yore, when never was anything dull
ship was his life and he was at the bow of the hull
 
Years tolled by, of successes he spoke
of money, of acquisitions, of victories he wrote
few were the times, interspersed by vanity
by zeal to prove, to flaunt beyond all equanimity
 
this too passed by, came the days of pain
of failures so incisive, from comfort he refrained

to thee he wrote of frigid nights and of crimson 

rain
the thoughts of which left forever a bitter stain
 
also came by, like spring in autumn fall
the era of love, a peculiar, fascinating call
of togetherness, of intimacy, a bond forged further
forgoing all sufferings, in the bliss of present fervour 
 
aeons passed, such in midst of all the prior 
wrote he did fervent covered all the chapters
a picture he had painted such tragic beauty
the demure fragile presence termed by thee reality
 
of end wrote he, he wrote but to thee
of perishing of frailties, of life's final fallacy 
his end had come, yet only memories did not wither
in your mailbox O lord, but an anonymous letter 

 -Brooding


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