Not my song


I couldn’t stop just because you

wanted me to

dropping the image

that has too long kept up a pretence

for aching corners cannot smile forever.

 

Take away these unwanted songs,

oh, open-throated bulbuls

You care not if hurt lurks unheard

between the lulls

 

Give them to the gentle breeze

or to the raging shamaal winds

Let them sing buried

from under the camel’s hooves

 

or throw them to the hallucinating one

wandering lost in search of a mirage

to hang his hopes on-

the oasis cannot quench thirst

unless one admits and submits to thirst

 

Or sing them as one of your own

for hundreds of orphaned songs lie

hung from leafless boughs

beneath your trees.

©Reena Prasad 20th October 2012

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