A Poem: And You Stole Your Way into Me

In the earliness of the nights

Before submission to the life unknown

As the sounds of day fades slowly

Then I thought of you.

In the worlds of the dreams

When consciousness loses its firm grip

And the subconscious takes its place instead

Then I dreamt of you

In the darkest of the nights

When the next step seems uncertain

And the grip of fear feels so tight

Then I riveted on you

In the lights of the days

When the activities are up to heights

And the nerves are fired to high

Then I paused and pondered on you

In the midst of sorrow

When the mind is near collapse

And no hope is left to live

Then I concentrated on you

In the bask of euphoria

When the joys are full to brim

And the world’s so filled with roses

Then you crossed my mind            

In the break of the day

When the strengths are yet untapped

And the zeal to launch’s so full

Then I meditated on you

On the table about to consume

When the mouth’s so watery in anticipation of taste

And the bowels in protest against delay

Then you struck my mind

Wow! This’s so heavy a burden to bear

This is so harsh a punishment to endure

This is so hard a lead to trail

This is so hidden a treasure to find

When shall this confusion come to be cleared?

When will this mystery get to be solved?

When will this fight get to end?

When the element of war is the mind

But it has happened even without my consent

It has caught me unprepared

Like a thief in the night

You stole your way into my heart.

Gift or Torment??

In the head it’s like a war

The cause of war I can’t explain

Up and down it pounds and beats

And leaves no trace of how to resolve

It drags the feet to time and places

It gives no reason for where it takes

It sways and swerves and yet returns

The faintest clues it flashes at random

The hands and head it puts in dispute

The one it sets to wander eastwards

The other, westward it makes its trail

And soon they meet at the junction of nowhere

In the heart it speaks in the lightest voice

A tongue so queer to comprehend

And yet it says over and over again

With the pace of heart its rhythmic beat

It scratches, it tears, and it pushes and pulls

Voicelessly it shouts with a deafening sound

Effortlessly it eats up the mind to nought

And yet its reason it keeps obscured.

Like a spirit it possesses and owns

And gives no reasons for actions and deeds

Like a driver it wheels at will

To roads and corners that pleases the journey

In the dark it lights up and illumines

And beams on paths it wishes to straighten

And at last the pieces are picked

And put in place to make some sense

Could this be a gift or torment?

A torment of gift or gift of torment

I look to my ink and ask my question

And on my paper it throws it back at me

The muse of an art they call a gift

But to the bearer a torment in disguise

And so I draw my pen to write

For the war in my head my pen alone can end.