Lost in those early morning whispers,
thinking about a childhood,
where darkness was just an illusion.
Hands of the dusky sunrays,
playing with the paltry foliage,
too surreal to witness
in this rational construct.
Muddy puddles and the earthly aroma,
both engulfing the confused, ill-tempered child.
Holding onto the blessed heights,
ethereal frames pass by,
too quick to realize their inherent grief.
Tearing up, after a lost childhood,
feels better than the sunken ship,
whose torn sails lay still.
A forgotten comrade confiding
in the solitude all around.
Those gentle strokes
on a dark, moonlit riverbank,
lost in a self that I can talk to.
Chills run down my spine,
while I converse with the forgotten shores.
soaked in centuries of disregard,
covers her face,
in a pool of bluish-white.
An eternity of hiding,
away from settlements built on sinking sand.
Intoxicated by her anonymous disposition,
those sea-shells glimmer
in the midnight gloom.
Shallow dreams I once harbored,
oblivious to the cradle within my reach.
Building a home near the seaside,
loses her presence once and for all.
The green gleaming leaves on a rainy day,
seemingly confides in its private,
Just as the waterfall in the distance,
life looks as misunderstood
as the greenish hues
on a Pacific mussel.
Bubbles we must cocoon ourselves in.
A world to sink in the volcanic crater,
lest we embrace the folly
we must endure.
In lieu of tethered feet,
few continue to fly
into the endless expanse.
Flying into the hummingbird’s nest,
she hears the cheerful chirping
turn into mournful silence of the indifferent green.
I guess the silence would stay.
My weary eyes looked at the moody sky,
ever so slightly covered by the frosty clouds.
Living into the afterlife,
between the latter
and its anonymity.
About the author:
Gautham Pradeep, currently 22 yrs of age, was born in Kerala, India, in a town called Thalassery. He did his schooling in Bangalore and is now pursuing his MBBS course from Srinivas Institute of Medical Sciences and Research Center. He tries to explore the existential dilemmas of the present generation. Apart from writing poems, he indulges in butterfly breeding and painting occasionally.
Discussing disabled characters in fairy tales and folklore!