Farmer’s pride

The farmer stares,

At open skies,

Hopelessly searching,

For fluffy thick clouds.

To his dismay,

The sky is blue,

The sun is out,

Shining shamelessly brightly.

His crops wither,

The rich soil surface cracks,

His dream crumble,

But he hasn’t lost hope.

He stares again,

At the open sky,

For one last time,

He prays silently.

A small drop of water,

Falls on his rough skin,

Waking him up,

From his sorrow filled dream.

He cries in delight,

As he watches,

Drizzle turn into rain,

Giving life to his dreams.

Caged

 

Caged by his own insecurities,

He sits in own miseries,

Some created by him,

And some by his surroundings.

He stares at the sight outside ,

Happy and joyous ,

The birds fly,

Singing the songs of merriment.

He is envious, 

And sorrowed at his own plight,

Burdened by his sufferings,

He plans to escape out into the blue sky.

The door of cage,

Is unlocked and wide open,

He takes one step out,

Slow and steady.

Fear grips him suddenly,

Pushing him back to his misery,

He returns back 

Sad and unhappy,

He watches,

The happy flock of birds enjoy,

Their freedom.

Party leader and his dogs

With head up high,

And one leg resting on head of his loyal servant,

He sits with pride,

On the throne gifted by his forefathers,

Who had obtained it through heinous means.

His ability is in question,

His intelligence is zero,

He knows nothing,

Except singing songs,

Taught by his father.

Other congressmen loathe him,

Public despise him,

While his dogs lick him,

With false praises and glorification,

Of his ordinary deeds.

His sins are painted,

As pious and reverent,

With hope to win votes,

And bribe the tears,

Of minorities and needy.

With head up high,

He smiles,

And his dogs guards his throne,

By barking at the deserved ones,

And fighting off the opponents. 

The Haunted House

Surrounded by thick forest,

Filled with ghastly energy,

An abandoned mansion stands,

Huge and unearthly.

As one escapes,

Out from the fearful woods,

To that abandoned mansion,

Unaware that it traps lonely souls.

The house is a puzzle,

With no escape doors,

Except for one,

That is visible only to pure souls.

Fools dared to enter the woods,

With hope to show the world,

Their stories of bravery and adventure,

Perished with no trace.

Many pass by the forest,

Where the abandoned house stands,

Huge and unearthly,

Waiting patiently for it’s next prey.

Happiness is where your heart is.

Happiness is,

When your heart smiles,

Even during stormy nights,

And the struggles seem worthwhile.

Happiness is,

When you heart sings,

To the beats of love,

While you hold your partner's hand for the first time.

Happiness is ,

When your heart flies,

As you take tiny step,

Towards making your dream a reality.

Happiness is,

When your heart is at peace,

Even when people struggle with Monday blues,

And you are at ease throughout the week.

Happiness is,

Where you heart is,

Even if it's plain country side,

Or a palatial house facing the seashore.

Truth

Truth is bitter,

Raw and pure,

Until it's mixed,

With lies,

To protect few,

And harm others.

Truth is unanswered question,

Like hidden treasure,

Or mine filled with minerals,

Ready to be unearthed,

But left untouched,

In fear of revealing something dreadful.

Truth is mystery,

Until it is debunked,

By the curious cats,

Within us,

While world watches,

With wide eyes.

The Lion and his perfect spot

As the sun goes down,

The sky turns purple-pink,

And it's time,

For arrival of mighty king.

The cowardly wilder beasts,

And gentle giants,

Feast on wet grasses,

While their king arrives.

The lion king arrives,

With unbroken pride,

And strolls his land lazily,

Searching for perfect spot to rest.

And he gets,

What he wants,

A perfect place,

To rest and then hunt,

While the others continue with their work.