Hakuna Matata

Tonight, as I and the Poets of the fall,

Reminiscence about the beautiful ones,

In the absence of deserving words,

In these abhorable situations,

To my readers, if any,

I dedicate this gem of a song, 

I found in an epiphany-

By a guy, who for his age and belief,

Could possibly never go wrong-

https://youtu.be/SmaY7RfBgas?si=UA1ezk1XcyQvi4On

 

You know nothing

Spineless are they,

Responsibilities,

Who can’t shoulder.

Spineless are also those,

Loyalties,

Who can’t nurture.

 

But loyalty to whom?

Obligations? Or desires?

Go ahead, seek an answer.

In between the lines, maybe,

Where life transpires,

You might want to think it over.

 

But what remains solemnly true,

Over eons, through each passing year;

Is that life would have been,

So much easier,

Had we been in love,

And in life, in general,

What we are in temples-

Honest! It’s that simple.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The gift of choice

You’d ask him

Why this? Why now?

He just abhors goodbyes,

To those who matter somehow.

 

Like Priam once believed,

Of all wars he had to fight.

Only fighting for love,

Seemed sensible; seemed right.

 

Winning the war,

You can’t be sure about.

But winning battles against fear;

Befits a soul stout. 

 

You are no commander,

And he is no Gladiator,

But with forces combined,

The journey would be an adventure.

 

Doesn’t matter, if average people frown,

I tell you, with experience enough,

When responsibilities push us down,

Feelings we always shove,  

But if it comes to choice,

We must always choose love.  

In between happiness and bliss

Nothing would ever make up,

For the time he dashed through.

But regrets, he’s never held any,

Life has corrected itself always, anew.

 

And this small part of his life,

Unexpected and even though an abyss,

As Chris Gardner once felt it,

Can be termed as Happiness.

 

Luck, fate, chance;

Finally stand defeated,

By a man Godless, harmless,

A beast unabashedly unashamed.

 

But bliss is what he pursues,

And the source remains locked in;

A cup of tea might sort it all,

Distances; peripheral or within.

 

Winters may not be what he likes,

But his love is always forever.

He gives himself three days,

He knows, this story is now or never.

 

Do open the gate to your heart,

Even if this seems like a déjàvu;

Because all that’s in the way,

All that went through,

Could have never been him,

It was always you.

Love in December

 

As the days grow colder,

You seem to drift further away.

Far enough for us to not be able,

To feel, what we could! What we may!

 

They say this December,

Will be the coldest ever.

I sense it, as I look for you,

Here, there, everywhere.

 

Arctic like wilderness,

Is what each day feels like.

The excitement of love, however,  nurtures,

Hopes of a truly deserved life.

 

But as the nights grow longer,

Stronger becomes your slumber.

I’ll dig in and wait,

Not letting luck be a bummer.

 

And don’t you worry,

Even if you wake up shaken,

I am here to catch you,

Be it in hell or in heaven.

 

 I might have to leave,

When it is spring,

But always know,  

My word is a forever thing.

 

From Mondays to Sundays,

From this sunrise to the next one,

I will be here for you, always,

Like for the earth, does the Sun.