Arpan’a’

You know
what I want
- the words
can’t really explain…

so, come, take me,
fill me
and fulfill me
till no gap can remain.

So, back to You:
has the time come
to return to my Dearest One?

To love You
as deeply and intensely
as before…
maybe even more?

Have I matured enough;
have I got a nerve
to be a lover You deserve?

And will I be able
to sustain it
beyond a kick
of a temporary flick?

Did I learn my lessons;
am I wiser and more pure,
finally able to endure?

And are You in the mood
to lock me in Your arms
so I can’t avoid
diving in Your eyes?

Why do I insist on suffering?

‘Cause I’m unable
to be at peace
without some sort
of an ecstasy.

I am escaping
the lack of excitement
- that’s what I’m doing!

The peace is so gentle
and so quiet
I don’t even notice it
amidst all the riot,

so I’m wearing myself out
and tearing others down
till there’s nothing left
inside and around…

All the time I use
creating
impossible scenarios
is better spent
remembering
Your dear toes!

Some gloom
keeps sitting
on my shoulders
and it won’t budge.

It’s a premonition
and a maintainer
of some mighty grudge.

I need a sunshine
to evaporate this cloud
or a wind
to blow it away

- may your gentle touch
carry me on
in any and every way.

I want to maintain
my own picture
of reality;
my own narative:
marvel at my wisdom
and brood over my misery,
obsessed with my “me”.

What a silly dream,
preventing me to live!

I guess a life
is really poor
when it has nothing else
to think about
but how to endure
the pains it won’t cure.

When there’s nothing to hold
there’s also nothing
to withold
- neither attention
nor care
… if we only dare!

As long as I expect
only pleasure
I’ll suffer
beyond measure.

Often I wonder
what did I really want
and what did I
cause to happen.

I’d like to understand
the sincerity and hipocrisy
which made and unmade
my heaven.

I guess I’d like
to be in control:
be able to influence
and attain
a guaranteed goal.

And I fluctuate
between an acceptance
of the responsibility
for the consequences
and the grief
over the inability
to alter the circumstances.

While both are
pretty impossible:
I’m only given
the will to do
whatever possible.

The rest of the equation
is beyond human deliberation.

I was in shock
and I was in denial,
I’m still angry
and not only sad…

I still haven’t accepted
that something is dead.

Because it isn’t:

in me it still lives
as sweetly
and as bitterly
as it once did for real.

To give it up to oblivion
is truly a big deal!