Rhapsody of Intent

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15/09/2016 by Siddiqui Fayesal

Far from the plains of pain,
Far from the weary soul,
I sit, nestled in the green,
And play my kingly role.

Away from the races of false,
Away from the commandments afresh.
I sit and listen to the river,
And let my pen flow against mighty bets.

Confusions and clandestine rules
The tall order of the men afar.
I, among them but not yet one,
Cheer my absence from their shining stars.

Adjudges as kings,
Slaved by thoughts.
Faked by kingdoms,
Their story’s old. 

Races won and tales forged,
While in seats of gold they sit.
Cheered by liars they live
Cold and distant in their rooms of guilt.

Oceans of old bear testimony
Of their valour and might.
But only in waves that won’t
Even rise to their knees to bite.

Towers built and music played,
Laughter rise and heads adorned;
Foundations weak, the music 
Borrowed while laughs later scorned.

I have neither tales etched
In my name nor songs sung.
Neither friends nor foes who’ll
Weep or rejoice when the bell is rung.

I have no valour among
The seats of gold.
I have no waves singing
Victories bold.

No monuments built,
Nor any crown bestowed.
No maidens lay awaiting in
The halls of Gods.

I have my pen and my
Share of words,
That fashion my life
In spell and curse.

I built their towers
With foundations weak.
I injected bad smiles
And meads that reek.

I wrote their songs
That lie to all but them,
And made them dance with
Lying beliefs and dreams undreamt.

I gave them thrones of gold
That imbibed their hearts.
I gave them voices of Gods,
That echoed lies and broken paths.

I raised high their flags of
Impotent lust and evil desires,
While made the worst of them 
High Kings and Evil Sires.

But alone I sit in
The laps of hills and waters.
Running my pen across pages
And cleaving and flinging them higher.

Call me alone and bestow upon
Me your sad sympathetic smiles.
Call me lonely and a peddler
Of romantic rhymes.

But take not away my
Soul from verses and words.
Take not away my pen
And the chance to fashion worlds.

I’ll gladly fling away the gold
And the thorny crowns.
But be loath to walk
The walks of worldly clowns.

Siddiqui F.

NB: Apple View, Manali

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