Done
It is done.
The last song has been sung.
The last rung
has been strung.
It is done.
I will not know
what I am saying;
not till the half-light
has been sprung.
It is done.
I lie. I lie.
There’s an ink stain in the sky.
It spreads and whips across
the sun.
It is done.
We will move away now.
We will depart with a dying dirge.
The surge
of a million crystal feelings,
the silent bow
of a thousand tongues;
it is done.
My friend at midnight.
My heart, my soul,
I would lie if I told
the story of a perfect love.
Your eyes glittering bright,
your spirit alight,
one with our whispers,
runs. Now it runs…
It is done.
Thine will be done.
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Categories: Poems
wow… you’re on a roll. The last stanza is wonderful. It is very sad, and has a helpless feeling of resignation to it. The last line has a ring of finality to it. sad scene hai kaafi. well done.
reminded me of Eliot’s “For Thine is/Life is/For Thine is the”