An Odyssey

I step out and see

a mass but not really one

anxious of what might be

all of us swirling in a big cauldron

the slightest touch makes us slip away

towards nothing, away from them

be it night or be it day

the news is riddled with mayhem

I pray for those who have fallen prey

those who couldn’t get through

those who in these times have lost their way

and those who are feeling that everyday blue

But somehow we must carry on

keep our strength and move past

the world we knew has gone

but we must hold on to our sinking ship’s mast.

-Niyati Parab.

The old man

Tangent dreams of a merry world

gone by in a distant swirl

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reality has broken quite a few

fallen on grass like the morning dew

At night he goes to the mountain

and weeps like a flowing fountain

once he had it all

glory in bounty before his fall

Now alone he sits in the evenings

reminiscing his old beginnings

tending to old wounds

and feeding his hounds

They call him the old man

he is a grouch from Dec to Jan

cause little do they know

you reap what you sow.

-Niyati Parab

Why?

A wise man once said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder

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in every shape and form moulded by the creator

Yet we discriminate

and look at certain people and hesitate

Why must we judge

and hold any unnecessary grudge?

Why must our souls see different

and pass cruel judgement?

Why can’t we simply accept

and keep our mean opinions burried 6 feet deep in a casket?

Why can’t we be kind

leave the past behind

and look out for each other

and hold love and respect for every sister and brother.

-Niyati Parab

Human

Deep within we are the same

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the fiber of the same being

walking on life’s different lanes

all curious, all keen

Wanting to live our best lives

to be content, to be satisfied

to be protected from malice, deciet and lies

not to be burdened, not to be tied

Dreaming of a better tomorrow

of serene happy faces

sans any sorrow

peace and quiet in all places.

-Niyati Parab

Our Soldiers- Our Pride

Fallen soldiers rise

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in battle you hear their cries

brave is their heart

for their country everything is worth

they never back down

always march ahead without a frown

their spirits high

even though they never know which day could be their last goodbye.

-Niyati Parab

Catherine the scorned

Ocean breeze swept her hair

her gestures are of creative flairÉpinglé sur RPG NPC

fallen angels sang her name

but their voices fell on deaf ears in vain

fading hues adorned her clothes

encircling her heart were tragic woes

vowing to take revenge

she has become a heartless wench

her heart an empty casket

her sorrow; she no longer can mask it.

-Niyati Parab