Poetry Collection
Verses on spirit, silence & the infinite
Cherish
How many dawns hast Thou harboured for meBehind that horizon line like a miraculous wand?How much ar
Dire Trinity
I fear thee no more O night faceless,Nor thy million masks of horrorPiercing with pain-reaping lance
All The Mar
Ah, what lack is in Thy repertoire of infinityLike a black spot mars the glorious sun-face,For all T
What Use
What use mind if by Thy muse unvisited,Wandering vain in thought circlesLike the vainglorious sun se
These Remain
Ah hope, fair weather friend inconstantDrifting like a leaf disloyal to tree thy home,Severing thy s
Burnish Anew
Am I Thy marred coin for exchange unfitIn this bustling world-commerce of value,To be untouched by T
Score These Wrong
Must it roam, this avaricious NightConspiring to seed in the unwary dayDoubt and despair for its rui
Mother of the Ages
A stutter and lisp mar my speech,My heart’s utterance Thee can’t reach,Mind upon inconstant wheels t
Anomaly
What events are these that lurk and prowl,Baying for me from bush of circumstance,Malevolent eyes an
Lasso Of Joy
Oh the anguishes packed into a human span,The mires that weigh down body’s existence,What tongue can
Thy Dealings
Hast Thou made me Thy plumb to gaugeThe absymal depths of the human range,Or the breadths of incongr
The Gates
How far yet stretch the mind frontiers,How many valleys and peaks remainOf ideals and norms perforce
O Dawn
Today O Dawn, thou shalt not be nameless,For thou doth mark the moment through agesWhen vain recurri
Thy Aim
Is mine hope so bold, to reach unworthy handsIn worship to Thy feet perched atop heavens?What heart
Fortune
What use these, encumbrances of bodyAnd mind and vital, even vacillating heart?What shame is there t
Into Thy Hands
How many bodies have I borneRiddled with aspiring hearts,How many lives anguish proneFor my soul to
Orbit Thy Days
Much I have perused without avail,The tomes most encyclopaedicThat sum many words to a null,An empty
Oh Night
Ah Night, clandestine mistress,In thy covert black shade our rendezvous,Peddling to heart all thy fr
Thy Hour
Many sheaths of selves has the soul,Layer upon layer deposited like siltFrom the waters of life that
Unsung
How much light doth Thou squanderOn a laggard heaven all dully bright,Thy gods have grown recalcitra
It Sates Not
Oh it sates not, Thy name etched on heart,Making Thee sole occupant supernalOf my body that grows in