Posts

Showing posts with the label Contemplative.

The Silence Beyond Eden

-
Image
The Silence Beyond Eden  The sky, dust-laden, wears the stains of ash, while restless souls gather pearls of eternity, yet their hunger remains unsatiated. Frontiers bleed, dreams crumble into ruins, and nameless children inherit an unknown Eden's ashes. Once, your footsteps consecrated the earth, your breath sanctified the wandering winds. Now, iron and fire dictate the fate of spring. Who taught the flowers to fear their blossoming? Perhaps the giants still play their ancient game, moving kingdoms across the chessboard of the earth, while pawns of flesh and blood vanish beneath their shadows. And you remain silent, beyond the ruins of paradise. Is your silence the final mystery of creation, or the permission through which the giants reign?
Post a Comment
Read more

Hollow Gaze

-
Image
 Hollow Gaze In the moistened air, wet thoughts drift, while a dishevelled mind wanders through the blurred corridors of the past. A hollow gaze embraces the clouds across the sky. Leisure engulfs the entire being, rendering even the body utterly inert. A sorrowful strain of Beethoven echoes through the silent chambers of the soul. By Goutam Roy HoHolll
Post a Comment
Read more

Shadows Of The Past

-
Image
 Shadows of the Past Shadows of the past still haunt memory, lingering where forgotten footsteps fade along dust-laden roads. They lie exposed among wandering leaves, their colours slowly surrendering to the silence of time. Mind longs to rinse them clean, to cradle them within its secret chamber, safe from the erosion of years. Yet the heart's archive is a paradox of its own— it cannot hold them forever, nor can it bear to let them go. So they remain, half-buried in dust, half-alive in memory, returning with every quiet dusk to whisper the names of yesterday. By Goutam Roy 
Post a Comment
Read more

Stray Leaves

-
Image
  Stray Leaves A dishevelled breeze scatters stray leaves; discreet thoughts, too, lie upon the surface of an inert mind. Grey doves skip across the ground, searching for insects to sustain them. The blurred noon stands motionless, like an imprisoned soul, benumbed by an unfulfilled past. Today turns grey, like a bird separated from its flock. Unruly fate has toppled the inner calling of life— like stray leaves fallen from their trees. Everything seems inert  In this faded noon.  By Goutam Roy 
1 comment
Read more