It Seems To Me

 It seems to me, that you beg for recovery,

A redemption, to say from the least.

But to see that far to which you have sunk,

Recovery would need rest it seems to me.

 

Oh so confident you are of me!

That you blast your words into the air free,

That you need not think about what ever be,

Just something you hear and you reply with glee.

 

You ask me, is there some need?

To hear your thoughts, more thoughts that might breed,

I cant say I had faith in your creed,

But alas, you disappointed the disappointment in me.

 

I savaged my life out of this many-wound way,

But am I to be flattered by your superficial say? sensuous sway (alternatively)

 

Haven't you heard what I said?

I meant things else but to grasp yet you failed?

Haven't you known I adore your face,

And your soul and your mind – it’s all readily ablaze.

 

The grasp I had sought of things untold,

Lied in my arms, unused yet sold,

It’s sold to a behemoth of laws and theorems,

And success and failure,

That to hold your heart I am lured,

But to comprehend it, I can't be cured,

Of all that I haven't had or gained,

To have you  - I shall not be pained,

For days of laughter scored in need of recovery,

And what recovery if my heart isn’t set free,

And decades of mere hope can't manifest as something,

That goes and comes by your subtleness that I can’t see.

- Krisha Shastri