My Call

Perhaps you don’t want

To give me a little

Respite and so you

Don’t call – why do you

Think that a call

Is such a tall

Order despite my endless

Inspiration from the soul-end

Your heart doesn’t bend.

May I ask you a question

Pertinent….. what it is

That gives your soul

A particularly poetic

Scent? If I take this

Latch and effortise to

Catch your palpitations’

Bent…..would you mind

To attempt and rise

To answer me – I swear

I promise to be discreet

Till I meet the reason

Of your soulular worry

And devoid of any hurry

Get and gather my

 Own comprehension.

I weep in soundlessness

My eyes keep check

Lids stop the fluids

Flow is hit by the blow

Of virulent winds

Of change which

Seem to derange

All my heart beats’

Arrangement….

My soul in hell-bent

State of predicament

Ceases to glow

Feeling defeated….

At the hands of destiny….

All movements

Pause witnessing

The imminence of

A new clause……….

Of catastrophic. ……

Intervention…….

My jubilation…

Ceases at long last

My words’ deluge….

Flows, pleases the OMNIPRESENT

HE –the only iconoclast