Thursday, November 6, 2008

Mirage

Infinite possibilities
Of childhood and youth
Create castles.
Archtectured fun.
Where are they?

Vanished without a trace
In a moment that eludes memory.

Furrowing to release
The silver flashes
From the suffocating heap
Of restrictions and pain.
Where are they?

Vanished without a trace
In a moment that eludes memory.

Wallowing in the mire
Clinging to sanity
And dignity – or trying to
The lurking suspicions
Grow into tangible shapes.

Why this torture
Of vanishing dreams?

7 comments:

Praveen said...

we were actually at the mirage when we went searching for the mirage..

missing the childhood, the innocence..

nice work

P. Venugopal said...

Why not pick up the broken muse, madam. Transitions happen without our knowing. We can always come back once we become aware why. And that is the topic of this poem too. Am I right? Well crafted piece.

kochuthresiamma p .j said...

yes. particularly applicable to a woman. a survivor in this business of living always has tales of lost dreams to tell.

Rahul S. Nair said...

dreams are meant to vanish unless you set yourself to achieve them..

balachandran v said...

why do we have to dream, in the first place?

workhard said...

Childhood memories are always swelll and sweet...

Write poetry

soul speaks said...

such tangible lines I could almost touch those emotions