I push back the trespassers within their boundaries,
They refuse, they struggle,
They get out.
They strangle my throat, crush my heart,
Steal my breath.
Growing thorns on the way up.
They conquer by rolling hot liquid embers down my facade.
I try to hide my defeat,
The world is watching I tell them.
I beseech; I plead; I beg them to retreat.
They are stubborn, adamant and uncouth.
Smugly reveling in their triumphant rampage.
They claim to have overcome huge barriers to reach this far.
Barriers of fine deception,
Of chaotic composure.
The flagmarch of rebuttals refusing remorse.
And the shoot on sight order,
For errant emotions; the trespassers' partners in crime.
They remind me of times when I allowed them to run amok,
Falling, gushing, running all over.
'Those were different times' I say,
When their victory was not my defeat,
But the only way I could tell the world of my triumph in love, life, living.
They snigger and smirk and continue their riot.
I raise my hand to beat them away.
My fingertips are wet when I touch their small souls.
I destroy them yet they have won.
They are mine, yet leave me behind.
Written on 19th November, 2009.
(I had set out to write something different ended up with this poem. Again full of allusions and allegories. Tears and crying in writing fascinate me, especially in Hindi film songs, beautiful lyrics there. One of my favorite is from the Mere haath mein from Fanaa "rone de aaj humko do aansoon bahane de... " This is my second poem on tears the first being Hall of Life http://halloflife.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-dont-cry.html)