Someday it will

I think of the road not taken, the one with street lights
The one supposed to hold all the delights
Is it the craving for a brighter sun or a darker shadow?
On a sultry day I crossed the fence
Carving ways in the wilderness dense,
No fear of the consequence

Someday it will all make sense

 

The everyday day never ceases to amaze
The eyebrows, the smiles, the seldom gaze
Is it the meticulous freedom or the confused boredom?
The stage, the play, the masked pretence
Fill the half glass with overflowing romance,
Served with a dance

Someday it will all make sense

 

Music comes from the entangled strings inside
The lines don’t ask before they coincide
Is it the real deal or an impulsive zeal?
The dormant voice hides the bubbly impatience
The redness permeates the veins’ defence,
The silence before the moments intense

Someday it will all make sense

 

While it lasts, savour the love
Believe in the strings pulled from above
Is it problem of the plenty or the scarcity?
Cold winds make the memories condense
Heavy the clouds blow but not ready to dispense,
A tribute to the care immense

Someday it will all make sense

 

Though questions ring the bell all the time
I still miss opening all the doors sublime
Is it the lazy evening or the mysterious night?
Reading the book from the covers, I always commence
Why the answers reveal themselves only in a sequence,
Oh the great suspense

Someday it will all make sense

– Ishan ‘tarang’

About tarang

Business and technology journalist, geek, star gazer, foodie and loves trying out new music. And yes…loves beaches! Find me on Twitter @ishan_srivastav This blog started out as a place where I wanted to put down my thoughts on events happening in my life and sometimes, the world! But over time, it has served me well as my diary where I write my little poems…one of my favorite hobbies. I hope one of these will strike a chord with you. Feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading! Listen to Mustn’ts, child, listen to the Don’ts. Listen to the Shouldn’ts, the Impossibles, the Won’ts. Listen to the Never Haves, then listen close to me. Anything can happen, child, Anything can be. - Shel Silverstein

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