Have mercy!

So it's that time of the year again,

When I typically mislay my rein,

I fumble and tumble in the horrid rain,

I do plead, receiving nothing in gain.

I blame it on the source,

The life, the giver of gifts of course,

No, not the man all believe, hidden in the cloud,

The one beyond who is wrapped in a shroud.

Indeed the sun; why does he hide?

Doesn't he know that he is my guide,

I'm lost under the clouds with no time to bide,

Darkness soaks me like a ruthless giant tide.

How can I think when -

a single thought doesn't stick,

Millions of them fired with every passing tick,

In what earthly conscience do I pick?

How can I breathe when-

the air is so slick and,

rushing in all directions;

I may as well be hit by a brick.

Come out of the shadows, oh dear sun,

Let my words of yesterday be undone,

Brighten my soul and warm up my skin,

The light around is really too thin.

Toying with my mind,

are things not so kind.

I need you not to turn blind,

In my moment of need-

-don't leave me behind.

Force the dark clouds away from the crowds,

For I tend to linger amongst the trouts,

Lifeless and mindless, I stagger in my strut,

Have mercy, before my dreams are forced shut.

Stir me tight and steer me right,

With those sorcerous, warm rays of might,

Have you no compassion towards my plight?

What must I slay to win this fight?

aeroyogi

17/10/2016

The broken arrow

The mind wandered like a broken arrow,

Desire crept in with its tendrils narrow,

Twining with the present and pulling me away

far, far from the still winds of May.

Away from the sun, close to the haze,

There laid out, was a deathly maze

of traps so brazen, I shuddered to enter,

Unwilling to meet again, the tormentor.

The breath intensified as the heart pounded,

The transgressed arrow deliriously floundered,

Picking up the pieces, I find myself thick

in the garden of snares and fences that trick.

I edged past an exploding shell,

Dodged a bullet running through hell,

While from a distance, I hear an alluring call,

Unaware, I scarper in hope towards my fall.

The oasis I sought was an illusion of dew,

Glamored by the melody and the pitch so new,

The psyche unknown had staggered through,

Reviving the foolish old wounds, not so few.

The broken arrow never finds the mark,

Or so I'm reminded by the tormentor very stark,

The mirror, the light, the shadows and sense,

together sing the insistent tale sans pretense.

I try to patch the arrow in time,

Before the dew disappears amidst the chimes

of a clock that sprints but never bends,

Only to realize that a broken arrow never mends.

aeroyogi

11/10/2016