There is
a quiet angel waiting in white
She watches,
patiently, quietly.
A robe of
pure white, she remains
Like a
lotus in a sea of colours.
There is
a shade of grey
It grows
as we do
A simple
law doesn’t exist
Ifs, buts,
thens and whens do!
They take
you by the scoop
And turn
you upside down, face first.
There is
a shade of grey.
Lingering
in the background
Like your
own ignored shadow
It prospers,
yet stays patient
Confused
- To blame, to not blame.
Thread
thick pathways, tread softly
Like the
cat on a wall.
There is
a shade of black
Devil with
horns and tail
Glowering
like coal, black
looks
like a condescending guard
Opens its
arms wide and calls you
To fall
into it, sneakingly
It doesn’t
care how bad it appears
It does
not matter too.
Its sanguine
demeanor pulls you in.
Leaves an
aftertaste that you will regret
you watch
the barren tree with never flowering stems.
There is
a quiet angel waiting in white
It knows
what you are, what you need
What you
can, what you cannot
It becomes
your nagging conscience
Asking you
to stop, silently pleading
Overheard,
resigns with a sign, but never retires
But, It is patient, holding itself.
When all
falls, it will stand tall.
A warm
bed, a warm home
A tub to soothe
and wash your soul
A second
chance
And lets
you slumber in its arms
Strokes your
hair and calls in utopia
A neverland,
straight, right and quiet
Thus defined, are the shades of your conscience.
Thus defined, are the shades of your conscience.
