The lone seagull

The lone seagull followed..
All others had left,
They started with the ferry..
Trailing with it..in search of something..
Some got a piece of it...some only surf and froth..
But the lone seagull carried on..

The Aegean sea blue and beautiful...
Brought forward memories..
Of good old times...
"Purano shei diner kotha"..
Atop the deck with the freezing wind thundering past..
This is where tunes ended and meanings began to emerge..
Where songs became stories, pieces of life..
Maybe it took rides like this for Tagore to compose his legends..

The legend speaks about good old times..
Moments that are etched onto our hearts..
Can they be forgotten?
Providence may separate us, my friend..
Take us in its own winding paths..
If someday we meet again..holding destiny's hand...
Come to my heart..
Good old times... Can they be forgotten?

The lone seagull did not seek what the others did..
Maybe it was some kind heart atop a ferry like this..
Maybe it was some memory..
Good old times...
They may be forgiven..
But can they be forgotten ? ?

The lone seagull followed...

Mirror Diablo

Flashy country outside...
Clean streets, polite people, expensive air..
Built to last..
Respect for fellowship...splendid development..
Well deserved..

Inside, the void gets bigger..
Cover Layers peel off in honest moments..
Honest to self..
Pain had altered perception..
Good defense yet poor facade.
Not built to last.

His God had given him everything..
Or, everything he wanted..
Save the life force..

He had come to accept that..
Grateful for the abundance..
But in moments like these the heart loses control..
Wretched thing..
And imagines one for himself..
That, which the lord had denied..

In moments like these
He betrays the his lord...and becomes the devil himself..
Maybe once the devil loved the lord thus..
And was spurned...
To hide the pain, he hurts himself..
By turning against the lord..
And becomes him, in his moment of rare slip...
When he turns out the lord and connects with himself.

The night train

The night train chugs along..
Shining lights within..
Windows hold back more than they reveal..
The eye instead of the scene outside..
It shows a glimpse of the self she avoids..
Not a mirror showing an image she wants to see..

But in the mysterious darkness outside lies her interest..
Looking for something..
But for these lights, visibility would be ordinary..
Streaking past her eyes, a blue blur..
Tunnel lights paint lines.
Blocking vision by the day.. Wretched tunnels..
Now the beacon of light..
Mystery holds, of the night outside..

Looking around she sees destinies..
Intertwined with hers..just so for the trip..
Perfect families..lovers.. Children..
Bound together in a slice of space time..
The Lovers not intrigued by the darkness outside..
Love makes time space irrelevant..dislodges the anchor.
The darkness outside remains..tempting to be claimed.

The night train chugs along.