The hazed images,
eerie resonances,
mysterious odours
cold touches
transcending the known
into the unknown.
The world is it of the dead.
Or, this piece of time’s slice
livings own.
He stood
on the threshold
between cognisant
and insentient.
Gawking at the sky
eyes closed, he espied
dangling noose,
inviting at the end of
the bough
Nocturnal silences heard,
ready for a new dawn.
Sensed, to stir,
every creature waiting.
He was deaf to the devil’s
smile in his being.
He wanted to feel
pass through his person
every birth twinge.
Advancing,
putting the noose ring
around his neck.
Not awaiting,
his soul’s prolix reasoning
disturb his poise,
he jumped embracing
the agony to be born
into the world of the dead.
Once, delivered
from liquid to ether
he had screamed and cried
Now as he left
the last gasp
he did not whimper.
The corpse swayed,
a mute testimony
of insatiable craving to be born again...
O Sudhir Janardhanan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mephistopheles-mesmerizes/
