MEMORY

Memory is mischievous

turning  me  into a bad boy

inside an old heart

drawing me to the bank

and making throw  pebbles of thoughts

into the secret pond of  heart

knowing not how I suffer

from love’s fatal blow--

a star--struck lover drenched

in  tears of dew

under a half-moon’s glimmering glow.

Why do I fall in love again and again

with  streaks of rosy hues

that like a subterranean stream flow

inviting my lusty heart to dive and dip,

deep inside into the waters of illusion

sucking in all my raw emotion

draining me of jubilation

to leave my heart wallow pathetically

under strokes of Time’s painful  castration ???

comp. n copyright: saroj k. padhi 25/07/14