Abhey Gupta

Tag: English

  • Dreamer

    Like the memoirs of a day,
    I welcome these winds;
    like your breath,
    I breathe this night, every day.

    And like the night that comes every day,
    I come with the hope of you;
    and like the silent whispering of love at night,
    I love you, each day.

  • Farewell to Love

    I fly to the sky,
    and pass my dread aside;
    I walk upon the cloud,
    and find you by my side…

    I open my arms,
    hold her eyes, and cry;
    she whispers nothing new,
    but I hold her tighter still.

    I dive to the ground,
    and lose her now;
    I pray for her to come with me,
    but the goddess has her refusal.

    I cross my heart and weep alone…
    but she never comes to see me by;
    time goes, and her love with it —
    yet I am still here, to see her by my side.

  • Forever Smile

    She looks around, and flies away;
    out of her wings, she brings her memories;
    through a day and a night, she murmurs —
    like a walking shadow, she lives each day…

  • Day with Self

    Before the moon dwells, before the sun rises,
    I watch the shore after night;
    glimmering in the shadow of light,
    wherever my eyes rush — to you.

    And I keep on talking to you, until
    you wake up in the light of the sun;
    and I find you everywhere,
    but I am never going to stop it,
    till I am in your arms, and out of the existence-race.

    And the raindrops keep on falling on my head…
    and I am lost in you — my mother, nature.

  • Height of Evening

    Silence all around,
    when the birds aren’t chirping aloud;
    I come by, then, at the time
    when you reach the height of evening.

    Utter a sincere lie,
    and lay yourself down in the town,
    where there is no one around,
    and darkness reaches the height of evening.

    You come, surrendering to the soul,
    gripped by a differential thought;
    you whisper a name, but no one knows —
    in the silence of the evening, and its height…

  • This Life Again

    Far from the shadow of yesterday,
    a haze of a new day, and a dawn of fate;
    with the beautiful memories of you,
    I wonder at this life again.

    Beneath the pillow of dreams,
    under the hope of an endless sky,
    I gaze through the eyes of the present —
    I welcome this life again.

    Thorns of desire, and the pale;
    flowers of love, and of hate;
    and with time, you smile —
    I love this life again.

    Endless is my way, my journey;
    speechless, the thoughts of mine;
    and with one glance of yours one day,
    I contemplate this life again…

    Into the surrey of the day,
    you welcomed not my silence;
    with the end, it starts again and again —
    I am lost in this life again…

    Secretly, in the span of time,
    the worthless seems so worth again;
    and with the final words of the way,
    and with you, I wonder at this life again…

  • Battle Mind

    Another day, and I will shed my way;
    travellers, the innocent, are my blood’s target.
    I may live or die, but it traces out my existence —
    the secret I keep locked away, in this battle of the mind.

    Words are my sword, and sorrow my blood,
    heir of a royal bloodline, wasted in surrender;
    you may see no more death in the world,
    but the soul-ripper has its own way…

    I could never stand beneath the words of love;
    we may travel all this world alone,
    battling the present for the despair of one past,
    fuelling a battle of the mind, every second.

  • Start to End

    I am walking down memory lane,
    the one I met first, but never last;
    still deep in every lonely day,
    lost deeper, and remembering all the way…

    Retrospective, travelling this time —
    the one in my worst, and forever;
    friend, or beloved — but the one;
    and whether I lost or won, still the last one…

    Drifting through one more memory,
    I wanted, but never the way;
    and I wondered, long, for one,
    and ended up with a lost beloved…

    All the way through this journey,
    one has been there, all the way;
    once a friend, a beloved, a friend again —
    but the start, and the end, with me.

  • Morning at Mourning

    Beneath the moon, up in the sky,
    the wind is blowing, high tide;
    I fear not the losing —
    I am travelling with time.

    Morning with light, morning with a smile,
    morning of freedom, morning of cessation;
    though not always morning —
    sometimes a morning at the mourning of a lost one,
    the mourning of what is left behind.
    But this mourning is better than a morning
    without oneself, lost in the darkness of last night.

  • The Moment of Love

    Once in a while in the day,
    filled with love and life,
    yes — it came to start,
    with the end of the line of desire,
    but the long way to another time.

    I guess it wasn’t the right choice;
    I wondered through dusk and dawn,
    with eyes filled with hope and love,
    but the dew of a shack,
    and the shame of neglect,
    answered only the shadow of time.

    And yet the end came with a “yes,”
    and I wondered all the dark night;
    but the answer came with the truth of none,
    and again I wondered, of hate and love —
    the beautiful moments of life…

    not with the one I got,
    but with the one I lost long ago,
    in that one moment of love.