Tag Archives: poem

13
Sep

The Warrior

Alone he walks…
Day to day
A poisonous virtue
That has come to stay
He looks for violence…
Where hate is to breed
Alone he lies
In search of peace
The fight is where he is the victor
The life
Where he continues to lose;
Sadly yet, he has trouble
To let this life go
Miles become empty
But this he cannot see
The thrill, the control that overtakes
The rage from upon the night
Will continue to seed
Quest(ions) remains…
Does he continue?
She takes his hand
To guide the love
To lift the hate
The warrior now lies with her
The fight to keep her
He the victor? Or soon to lose…?

© Copyright Mani Amar

13
Sep

The Burning Man

A burning man, stranded once again
I would help, not for glory, nor for shame
Not even, such as a candle’s flicker of fame
He who is deprived, of such known as human contact
Cannot foresee what he accomplishes with his hurt
Though he chooses not to speak of such things
He lives his life, thought of as kings
He who lives, yet he burns, has done me so much harm
I stand alone, with a helping arm
Everyone has walked away, except I,
He who burns, has scarred me, and yet more he tries
I have not walked, that unholy walk away
I stand along the burning man, taking the flames away
The flames, again, have spread to me, the burning man, has chosen to flee
I stand alone, with a burning arm
I helped a man, who chose to do me harm.

© Copyright Mani Amar

13
Sep

Children at play

As a young man, sat he on a grassy field a day
Sat and watched, all the children at play
All the while he watched, never one word he chose to say
Family that found him, so late in life
The family one had chose to be his wife
He chose the life of discord to calculate a subtle being
All the while he watched, never had eyes of seeing
The blood, thinned by water, burned by heat, blood like a river to dry
Confused, on why he wrote, the words that he had to say
The children grew up, in front of his eyes,
All the while he watched, from a distance, to this day
He had so much love, oddity in how it was to be shown
Not one counter, that he could have let himself to be known
Criticizes himself, in the mirror that lies to him daily
Yet he looks, till a fault is found
Yet he cries, from alone as the sound
Now old and bitter, tasteless to the world that gave him his birth
All the while he watched, as the children looked to him and frowned
As a young man, sat he on a grassy field a day
Sat and watched, all his children at play
All the while he watched, love was his only thing to say.

© Copyright Mani Amar

13
Sep

Snake

so slept the snake,
being poked and aroused
the anger sets in, but quietly so
the guard has been let down
so attacks the snake,
so slept the hate.

© Copyright Mani Amar

13
Sep

‘A candle burns’

A candle burns
In the middle of the night
All the words she said
An entertaining blight

Conditions revere
Such a cabalistic world
I look for answers
I look to bestow

If all was lost
Would songs be sung?
Sorrow voices
For the dying young

Formidable opponents
Standing parallel to I
I do not accept the defeat
I choose to defy

Our life, an interesting complex
We hold the hands of a stranger
In times of disorder, and of defeat
Nature, what we have let become to endanger

So now questions arise
For the meaning of it all
Our lives still in mystique
The world, in our minds remains small

© Copyright Mani Amar

About Me
In self-reflection; I can honestly say all that is good in my life has been a direct result of my artistic expression. Be it through writing poetry, prose, or philosophy, through painting or photography, or through filmmaking, art saved my life and it can save yours.
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