Friday, March 19, 2010


This a pilgrim soul

Searching Love, Peace and Mirth

It’s held captive in the morning sunshine

How it shrinks in the twilight

This soul weighed down by so many questions

Which cannot be surpassed?

Where will it meet the answers?

In heaven or in hell?

While in heaven it blooms like a flower

In hell it slithers like a serpent…..

Like Prufrock's, it lies in fragments

Its voice dimly sane turns insane in no time

Its fate is like that of a vagabond

It wanders from place to place

From heaven to hell

From earth to sky

From fire to water

In search of Love, Peace and Mirth…..