Tag Archives: meaninglessness

Fading Away is Impossible

Posted in Poetry English by

A poem about wanting to disappear—and realizing why we cannot.

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Sometimes I wish I could just fade away,

leaving behind no memory, not even a trace

Sometimes I wish I could remove myself,

from this stupid illusion of life and space

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There are a million colors in the world;

one black less, and it won’t make any difference

There are a billion stars in the dark night sky,

one going dark won’t make any difference

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What am I in this complicated puzzle?

A minute piece of desire, and nothing else

What am I in this mine of diamonds?

A small piece of black coal, and nothing else

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Leaving would be perfect – a final solution,

to the conflict between desire and reality

Leaving would be beautiful – a final touch,

to a trashy abstract painting that I see

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Fading is simple, and leaving no trace is impossible;

removal is easy, and leaving no memory is hard

What to do and what not to do? It’s a dilemma

But I have to play it, it’s my final card

Who Gives a Shit?

Posted in Poetry English by

A brutal, unapologetic poem about meaning, indifference, and the absurdity of existence.

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Who gives a shit if we win or if we lose;

or if we go free, or if we tighten the noose?

We are all here to walk for only a while,

some walk for ages, and some for a mile

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Who gives a shit if you remember our deeds;

or forgotten by all for whom we sow the seeds?

We are all here to do our own part,

some make it a burden, a few make it an art

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Who gives a shit if we remain forever chaste;

or if we surrender to lust even with distaste?

We were blessed with pleasure by Him;

we must follow its fulfilment at a whim

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Who gives a shit if we walk a virtuous path;

or if we love what’s forbidden and invite His wrath?

Sins are seductive, and virtue is so boring;

to walk straight is dull, and so indulging is the whoring

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Who gives a shit if we are as moral as the prophets;

or if we favour immorality because of huge profits?

Comfortable is what this life is supposed to be;

luxury is what we should all pursue with glee

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Who gives a shit if we believe in one or more gods;

or, if we choose to be faithless and don’t bet on odds?

We may decide to be a herd without a shepherd;

but in a race for survival, we need to be the leopard

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Who gives a shit if we ever get what we want;

or if we fail and are ready to face each taunt?

When we get lucky, we should thank our stars;

when we miss the mark, it was never ours

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Who gives a shit if we are as selfless as we claim;

or if we are all selfish, playing our own game?

Life is so merciless, as we have all lived and seen;

on the other side, it is always brown and never green

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Who gives a shit if we keep on living for long;

or if we die tomorrow, being crushed by a throng?

We didn’t matter at all, we never really mattered;

our dreams of grandeur should be all shattered

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Who gives a shit if all goes quiet when we die;

or if it all restarts and we are born anew with a cry?

One cycle or one after another, a sequence or progression,

we may all be one or a part of a large procession

When Love is the Last Illusion (Previously, the White Dove of Hope)

Posted in Poetry English by

Condemned by fate, and mocked by hope, until one dangerous word appears – love.

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Oh, you sad children of a time so evil and dark,

you are all the product of undesirable circumstances.

Your love always went stale before it could spark,

though you availed all the emerging chances

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You were the anomaly in the grand scheme;

you should have been smothered when born

Sadly, the plan remained only a dream;

though conceived by the Devil with open scorn

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You knew while you grew, you had no roots;

you were the useless moss clinging to a boulder

You had no character, no faith, and no attributes,

yet the burdens of life, you carried on your shoulder

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But you all survived, and yet you go on living;

for what purpose, may I ask in all sincerity

When both fate and life are so unforgiving,

your sustained survival becomes a vulgarity

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Desist! I suggest, or surrender, I would advise;

nothing will help you persist or even grow

Throw the cards down; please be a little wise,

just cease all efforts and go with the flow

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What did you just say? Do I hear the word ‘love’?

Yes, perhaps, love is the only solace you may ever find

It is your golden butterfly, a beautiful white dove,

in a world filled with hatred, this word sounds so kind

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Go on then, caress its warmth while you can,

till the white dove forsakes and abandons you

You will be all done with life; there is no other plan,

nothing else over the horizon for you to view