The Falling Maples- Living Unconditionally- Poetry by S.S

Through the stony trails which unstoppably quiver, Flows the wistful silent river, Poignant and distressed, vibrant surface, ruling the layer of dispiritedness, Frantically streaming, dreading the disagreeable terrains, all it seeks, is a permanent escape, from the worldly disdain, To exist itself is a tempestuous fight, Midst which, each drop seeks the perpetual One Light, Impertinent it is, how the bruising path, pierces through its heart, 'Cause to still progress through the course, is a rare art, It is this mauling continuation, that makes it fleetingly agile, It's a shame how the world can make a hushed river into Tumultuous Nile.........                                         ~S.S~

They have their own seasons, they call you theirs, for a reason, Sometimes they are yours, At other times, the bond becomes frozen, They mingle, they laugh, it's a rare art, lips utter something, while there's venom in the heart, They think they're forever, Least do they realise, they have already scattered.... (c) S.S

I wonder if it is the muse, that she must submerse in, Or the words that are born, must she bathe in? The essence of her phrases, rests in the rising morrows, they fall with the winter dew drops, and in the tears of her sorrows, She wakes up every morning, to the scent of his fragrant breaths, He who stirs the poetess in her, and is all her verses' meth, She adores his very being, which instills poetry in her existence, Upholding her from the material subsistence to a spiritual continuance........ (c) S.S

Slipping in the darkness, of an impermeable night, She immerses, into the uncharted depths, Of his charismatically clairvoyant sight, And in that quiet, massed wintery fog, She spills the pearl of words, beaming bright, Scattered upon the pages, Which she lovingly calls, Frosty Twilight.......                           S.S

It was a quiet night, her soul slipped through her body, into the stars of the twilight, She would die with every day, With the sun's last ray's fading light, In her sleep, Her spirit wandered free, Into the misty tranquil woods, Her fingers touching every tree, But tonight, wasn't like every night, A swirl of a finger, pulled her back, At first she was aghast, eyes full of fright, And then she saw the ever enigmatic, wizard's eyes, Was it an illusion or was is true? The dilemma was shattered, as she felt his hands, swiftly running through, With a black ink and and eagle's feather, The wizard seemed to be penning, around her navel, some letters, She stayed still, lost into his magical artistry, all she could fathom, were the racing fingers, The subject, was still a mystery, As the morrow's first rays glistened, She saw her soul hurl back, and her frame stiffened, I saw her as I looked into the mirror, A chant written, around

"I wish to escape through poetry,  Can I attain so?" asked he, Glaring in his eyes, She saw the frozen expressions, His ever dwindling perceptions, fighting to melt the rigid ice, And she said, "Poetry is a beauteous tunnel, walk through and you shall see, how magnificent, magnificence can be, It's a sweet respite, from the ever tiring worldliness, and bears within, a new willingness, As you shall pen your heart and soul, Into the pristineness of Poetry, you shall accomplish spirituality, Poetry is the humble den of a poet's being, wherein the existence is unpretentious, with a modest heart and expressions truly ingenuous......." Hence, Escape 'in' Poetry, Not through poetry.......                                       ~S.S~

From the ashes of a murky past, A feathered charm rose, With wings magnificently vast What was her lore? Even the river of her tears, couldn't douse her blazing shore! She lives on, breathing unwillingly, as she bends in front of the fate, bathing in the flames, beaming, yet achingly I saw the feathered glory sob and blubber, only to be left aghast, as I realized, I was looking into the mirror...................                     ~S.S~

What lies underneath, the wrinkled sheets of time, is the reminiscence's wreath, that dangles like ever enduring chimes....                   ~S.S~

Midst the endless confusions, and a string of emotions, a whirl of the pieces of a befuddled heart, and drenched in feelings' turbulent commotion, Hopes are scarier than the demons ...........                       ~S.S~

I stay in a bubble of inviolability, For my aspiration fears being a victim, Of your apathetic and unambitious self, I pity your very existence, For what was once earnestness, Is now a slothful lump of uncompetitiveness, I wonder my own subsistence, Is it too much to hope for a laggard to turn desirous?                 ~S.S~

It was after myriad of verbal tempests, and a  harsh, slamming fate, Her respect was his ego's conquests, adorning her soul with the cape of hate, That his affection and adoration, or the efficacy of his devotion, Terrified her, The shudders of which were felt, In the deepest depths of her inner-self Leaving her wondering,  if her heart would ever melt........... ~S.S~

What lies underneath, our worldly whole, Is our conscience, our buried souls, A moment of introspection, a platonic surmise, Ripping through the third eye, our souls shall rise.........                            ~S.S~

"Who are you? " He asked, Looking at the quiet nothingness, She said, "I am your spine, who backs you in your endeavors, I stay low, while you shine, and emerge as a wall, when you brave the life's tremors, You ask me who I am? I am the one you called as The one, My first step upon fervor's ladder, with you, my new life had begun, I gave up my dreams, and gave in to love's gleam, I made you my moment, My fantasy, my imagination, but mistakenly assumed, that you would brace my ambition, But I don't regret, Neither do I fret, For He watches me at all times, Making me hope midst hopelessness, That your heart and my spirit, shall one day rhyme........"                 ~S.S~

They're the enveloped pollutants,  in the existential air, The duplicitous serpents are everywhere, They are the living blocks,  with an unstable base, they're the trivial burdens here, a made up grace hides their ugly face, They're around, nature bound, drooling upon the worldliness, wagging their tails, these ruthless hounds, They're born speech-makers, with a much fashioned and softened tone, Be not surprised, to find them with impotent ears, Alas! Not everyone is au fait listener, In a purported serenity, sheathing a tumultuous continuance I am the lone lotus, Reposing in the mud, infested by venomous serpents........

Sad it is,  That a soul's heart, is nothing but a mere chunk,  They pique with their verbal darts   and leave it like a lifeless lump,  They,  whom we mistake as our own.... ...                          ~S.S~

She breathes in the air of adversity, In a whirl that governs her being's perplexity, Through a never-ending tunnel of forlorn, I see her walk with a heart that's severed and torn A part of her didn't mean to give him another chance, But the lover in her, was caught in his wicked love's trance, How destructive can one's individuality be, That she now stays afloat in her own tears' sea Maliciousness of a nature has never known bounds, Her form carries his hostility's lofty mounds, Trying to tread through the dunes, of dolor's burning sands, She wishes she could sink, into those anguished lands Such shall remain the partial devotion of love, Where he's the egoistic sky and she's the wingless dove, who got lost in love's ever-deepening mist, And gave her life, to a compulsive sadist........                              ~S.S~

It is, when I see the dry leaves fall, and trample 'neath my feet, I realize, Harrowing reminiscences, aren't forever after all.....                       ~S.S~

Hold me firm, with that distant gaze, As you espy my being, through delusionary haze, Solitary, in the mountains of furious hush, Battling the demons of seclusionary rush, The seas of placidity, smell of fate's wrath, My soul quietly betting on the tranquil's aftermath, I am afloat. like a petal caught in the bubble of hallucination, I wonder when shall end, this state of spectral illusion........                                  ~S.S~

The ways of the world have changed, humanity stands deranged, Amidst the ravenous wolves, Her soul dies first, But the body remains..............                ~S.S~

Let me weave a thread or two, with the fragrance of spring's magnificent hues, Embellished upon the cloak of passion, That I shall adorn, when I'll merge in you........                       ~S.S~

Her heart's an eternal autumn, And smile's an incessant spring, Wherein lies forgotten, Some enduring memoirs' strings Midst the perpetual chaos of life, Upon the branches of a continual strife, She reposes like a solitary nightingale, Who weeps within, yet mellifluously sings........                         ~S.S~

She wishes she had some iron veins, to deal with the eruptions, Of the dormant pain, That, where the time shouts, "Everything's right", But the deep down in the heart, She's still stuck in an invisible fight, She wishes she had an immeasurable well, In which her silenced voice shall prevail, and in it, her incessant hurt shall dwell, The water shall be her cloaked  sobs and tears, Those which were left unheard, By her very own's ears, She hopes she has, just as much time, For the tiny soul, her breaths call as 'mine', To cradle and bring up a good man in him, One who truly adores and respects, The woman he claims to love............ (c) S.S

I saw the words depart, they left my paralyzed heart, Hearing the moment's call, I embraced the incessant fall, The serpents of time, sprawled ahead, hissing, Helpless I am, as the Bridge of Inspiration, is missing.............                    ~S.S~