I look down at my hands stained with blood
I killed my soul, i set it free
A soul which was once trapped within me
A murderer I was, I had killed my soul without cause.
We were one, my body and my soul,
and now i will never be whole
I am just a piece of flesh and blood now
A murderer, a tag from which i cannot escape,
a gaping hole which i cannot tape
With blood-shot eyes I stared at the boatman,
carrying my dead soul to the other side of the world
Alone i sat there, with half of my dead self
What good was a body without a soul
The dry blood on my hands reminding me,
that i was responsible for my own destiny
I'm sorry god, for i have sinned
Murdering my half, what was i thinking,
now my primitive body sinking
I shudder to think of living the rest of my life without a soul
no, i don't think my life will ever be whole
At any time, of day or night
There was within me, a light
Something that showed me the way
Something that kept the darkness sane
Now it's gone, i do not know what I've done
My work, my truth, my life, have been undone
Help me God, from the high heavens
I cannot walk so anymore, among my brethren
(Written In Collaboration With Sneha Murali)
I feel this poem is much better than the first one.
ReplyDeleteThe stanzas perfectly link to each other and that's a good sign. Move on with more works of collaboration.
Just one thing I would like to ask, why would someone kill his own soul without any purpose? Killing oneself is normal, but this is strange and sounds impossible coz I believe soul is the only part of the body that's immortal. Assuming it possible, this work rocks!
the soul maybe immortal, but by killing the soul and becoming soulless, what we wish to convey is that we are removing the immortal part of our body, mentally and physically
ReplyDelete