Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Boodha Lament

A cigarette burns, deep and slow
In the night its embers glow
Smooth fumes aggregate
And my body – they enervate
But little does the cigarette know
That its life is about to go
Burnt and thrashed to the ground
Squished mercilessly without a sound
Dying embers cry away
Turning to a morbid gray.

The skies begin to weep again
Cold waters flood the drains
Now it lies in a puddle – vanquished
A life worthwhile, now dismissed.


  1. Now whithered the cigarette lays,
    the morbid gray too, melting away,
    seemingly regretting that sweet release,
    even death by those lips, was underplayed!

  2. In the night its embers glow
    smoking the joy,the sorrow flows
    this bitch doesnt ditch you
    the stick sticks till the sweet release