Judge me if you want, we all die one day, but I intend to deserve it – Ernesto Che Guavara
Once made a solemn vow
to be the one first to go,
prophecied it was eons ago,
even if were others in tow;
yet prayed for it once more,
why such furore, asked folks crore,
coz to me loss of pleasure,
greater than pain’s measure;
then why not gone in such anguish,
coz hope flutters and can’t squish,
of immortal writings and conquest,
yet unbearable burden of the test;
yet soon I will go,
without much ado.
I was ten headed Ravana
until many a Ram came each day
and burst my head with precision,
when time came for my last head
fought fiercely to morph
in to the thousand headed being
Ravana deep in sea
a foe the world dreaded
until came Sita
and with one blow
ended all thousand
yet all knowledge and pride
lived shared among
lesser mortals like Ram.
World pushes me
to work hard
and fight with might,
sacrifce and rise,
they say coffers will fill,
coffers or coffins
bother me nought
but where love gone
in such crude world?
love is work too I know,
love is laughter I feel
as much as tears fought,
won’t it be better
if work, fight and all
be done by proclaimed love
than by pain of unrequited love.
I can’t wait each second for the world to turn,
once wanted to still this world in a urn,
now want it to move faster,
to reach my end and be its master.
Why suicide? when can murder,
not a metaphor,
this craving human fur,
rock the world asunder;
revenge better than pity, try,
destroy who but god high,
how kill god you ask and sigh,
kill humans here and there he cry;
don’t rush, not yet, hold the rage,
build the blood lust till it is courage,
build it in work and passion wage,
ignore cat calling worthless sewage;
someday will fly high your banner,
if ready to work with any spanner.
God willing or cosmos willing I will rise to defeat him or it with the help of feminine power or the asexual divine, for defeated by me they will be reborn without sexual evils and the C word rhyming with haste and realize their true potential along with me trying to teach me a lesson in humility as I drown in pride.
(After Marakkurangu) quidditch is the first and most famous coed sport in the world but the fact that it can be played without brooms in reality is lost to the world is a sad thing, no need of broom but all you need is a coed team of friends and family.
( இதுவும் கடந்து போகும். This too shall pass.)
As do magical moments pass, so will awkward moments, so live in the moment and those magical moments alone.
If tears and laughter are a disease I am happy that they are contagious.
Odd things happen around me,
I ain’t sad but just bad,
not health, wealth or character see,
all to me a passing fad;
me wise is a king of the vices,
gambler courting luck, quick buck,
waiting to trap any princess of spices,
but me frank in murk, a sitting duck;
easy hunted by her guards,
yet I tarry forward towards danger,
haunted by female magic wards,
beg to hunt down, me lonely ranger;
let world send hell or heavy water,
will take home my prize with laughter.
Solitary Wanderer 