A LIFE WAS IN MAKING….

A life was in making
Blooming,
From his forest of thoughts
And the beauty of it was
Words were still travelling inside
Like it should have been
Preparing for the journey
With a silent commitment
Yes, time had stayed on
But only in some quarters
Like an important reminder
That where had to be the path
Speaking to themselves
Singing in unison with soul
Sometimes hammering
At times chiselling
Thinking now consciously
Of balance and rhythm
To stay on where it had to be
Yes, thoughts were taking shape
And a life was in making
With elements it had craved for
From his forest of thoughts
And the beauty of it was
It came with a curious attachment

A LIFE WAS IN MAKING….

©SantoshChaubey

THE GREY OF SKY

The grey of sky had brilliant shades
Singing along a vibrant sensation
And when it took a break midway
To let us in its enchanted halls
Traversing through its dancing alleys
It was like the day was waiting for it
To speak with it’s blue to go beyond
And to mingle with shades of its grey
That had for so long stayed there
In the galleries of white and black

THE GREY OF SKY

©SantoshChaubey

ATONEMENT

“I don’t go to that territory anymore yet I see its falling bricks every day.
They hit me like a fresh wound each time, exacting a cruel retribution,
When again the existentialist finds his senses wanderlust in the lost realm,
Shadows emerge from corners and voices try to add to the chaos.
I try to walk away but thoughts prefer to embrace the atonement,
In ruins of life, when pain finds itself in shambles, like it had never spoken.”

ATONEMENT

©SantoshChaubey

MEMORIES….

It was yet a summer day
Seven years to that winter
When it was a different song
And with a difficult note
So rough was its melody
That all was lost into it
So intensely it was done
That he was left all to him
Days were frosty and alone
Even if it was a summer sun
Life flowed, melted
Left bruised, dispirited
The winter that stayed
In a summer that swayed
Seven years to that winter
It was again a summer day
In by-lanes of memories
When it all came rushing in
That’s still a different song
Been there all along
But seven years is so long
That it has got all along
Staying there, in a corner
Albeit, without its marker

©SantoshChaubey