Wednesday, April 2, 2008

A Haunted House


Flowers have withered, Fountains have run dry,
In a state where the whole house was a visual cry,
Nobody ventured near it, nobody tried,
Foolish was the word for one who enterprised.

Every day through my window I see the house,
Filled with the usual lot of eerie ghost grouse,
People say that the ghost there hates every living thing,
Ripping up all of them without remorsing.

Once I decided to check the ghost with curiosity but no desire,
The house looked bleak, as if ready to catch fire,
I entered through the broken back door,
Into a room whithered out by unkempt galore.

Dust, mud and broken glasses were the ghosts company,
I stepped on as if I was part of the whole melachony,
No one knows what dreams were built in this place,
No one knows between it's walls what despair was faced.

Far down the doorway I saw a broken mirror hung on the wall,
I went towards it, feeling for the place which has suffered such a fall,
Light was fast fading outside but still there was no sign of my host,
I peered through the mirror, to realise... it was I, who was the ghost.

8 comments:

Krishna said...

very nice...i liked both the poems for the sheer simplicity...it makes relating to them very natural and easy.

chethan said...

Nice. The surprise part at the end was good shaping up everything said before.

yeah..that ghost was probably in his late 80s that it had a such a memory :D

Anonymous said...
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Unknown said...

I really enjoyed this.

Unknown said...

Krishna: Thanks

Chethan: Thanks, The age of the ghost is left to the imagination of the reader. :)

absurd apple: Thanks

Pramod said...

Haha chennaagide. neenu broken mirror andid thakshana gottaaythu enu baredirtheeya antha. nice imagination. As krishna says it's very natural, simple and nice.

Siddharth said...

Splendid! Keep caressing your melancholy, and churning poems out of it!

Unknown said...

Thanks Siddarth, Yeah sure the world as it is ensures that the melancholy spirit remains strong....:)