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can-a-man-control-dreams

Different Faces…

This old warp in time tells me,
I do not carry the same face.
A face so innocent of childhood,
Was lost soon with the adulthood.
Then walked with a spark in my eyes,
Trying to see dreams that may come true.
At twenty walked with streaming joy,
Through the window looked out at city.
I saw him walking toward me,
He promised me my dreams the way I see.
Yes I thought we would live forever,
But something went wrong there.
The color of my face changed again,
Leaving me with frustrations and pain.
Dark clouds came from somewhere,
Now I was not alone, had kids to take care.
Walked again with the face so blue,
What is in store for me had no clue…
The face once again became an object,
Of such a sadistic display…
Life kept me alive with constant pain,
Did whatever I could to survive,
But color of my face I could not revive.
I was in a world where men loved wars,
From here what road to take was not sure.
Lived with incurable anger and un repairable wounds,
Flowing tears and crying helplessly was all I could do.
The dark sea, and the waves that hit the red rocks,
Told me deliberate suicide wasn’t my meatier.
Started searching in books where I left,
Wiped the dust away from where they were kept.
Limping on the path tried once again to restore my face,
Violence and its limits cannot ever be an obsolete case.
Your silence today is a pond where drowned things live,
I want to see it come to the surface for sun to breathe alive.
It’s not my own face I see there, but other faces,
Even his face at another age, more miserable…
I know the gentle breeze will open this sheeted fate,
And show me the right way and what I can do.
This is the law of volcanoes every peak is a crater.
No height without depth, without a burning core,
Make them eternally with the glow on their face.
The time can shred on the hardened lava,
Giving it a shape and a new face with glow,
Like a strong woman and a visibly female…

© 2012 Pimmi Nag