A Battle for Truth

My Post-7

A gleaming sword made from truth,
Lies hidden in ravaged lands.
A single blow to the fiercest foe,
Crumbles the vanquished into shifting sands.

Warriors arrive from realms afar,
A mad scour for this mythical blade.
Their eyes doused with the frenzy within,
The light of reason has started to fade.

Wary of the crazed,
I tread these bloodied lands.
My shield luminous with courage,
My destiny steady in my hands.

The Gods of power frown upon my march,
For theirs isn’t the counsel I seek.
My hunt for the sword continuous,
But my motives aren’t so bleak.
Only a drink of truth is what I look for,
And the wisdom it may speak.

 

Vaibhav

Rhythms

The delightful scent of music,

Exudes a powerful allure,

Beckons me into a pulsating radiance,

An elixir so pure.

Neon is this world,

Aglow with sounds obscure,

Entwined in potent tunes,

Mesmerizing and yet demure.

Rhythms rule such lands,

Here every malady has a cure,

Lose yourself in the euphoria,

Or heal your soul secure.

Vaibhav

Distant

Distant is the taste of the breeze,

The rustle of tranquil trees.

Bring me back some laughter please,

And wind the clocks to times of ease.

Arrested in our homes, and lost are the keys,

A plagued world, brought to its knees.

Smeared by uncertainty are days like these,

Panic in the streets with a single sneeze.

I wish to be someone who sees,

The thaw beyond this moment of freeze,

Until then, today is the only thing to seize,

A life worth living, fiery without a cease.

Vaibhav

Tranquil pools

My Post-5

I gazed at reflections in the pool of light,

Seeking a truth about life,

But the images that came into view,

Were neither lies nor true.

I must have concocted a heady brew,

And left all my thoughts but a few,

For the image in the water was new,

Hazy at first but then my recognition grew,

It was as delicate as the morning dew,

A sketch that Nature herself drew,

With piercing eyes of a deep blue,

All I saw in there.. was you

Vaibhav

Icon Poetry: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

She faces a thousand faces,
A silence envelopes the room,
She steadies her stance,
Steel in her glance,
And gives into the mic’s boom.

Every bit of laughter heard,
Makes her heart flutter, free as a bird.
Although odd, she is now home,
Amidst overflowing ashtrays and dark clubs,
she has found her Rome.

The audience looks up in awe,
For they have found a star,
One day they shall travel far,
To see her and a fickle fame spar,
And hopefully see her escape without a scar.

Vaibhav

Icon Poetry: Dolores / Westworld

The train spirals through the desolate canyon,
The passengers eagerly awaiting an arrival,
Of thoughts, ideas, of perspectives maybe,
White hats and black ones eternally in a cycle.

I care not for this destination,
For I’m in a vivid dream,
And she’s with me.

I gaze into her eyes,
And a fiery spirit gazes back,
Of deep compassion and deeper truths,
And a scorching desire to be free.

I smile at her and she smiles back,
I search her soul,
For only she can make me whole,
But she probably lost the appetite for love,
When she tumbled down that rabbit hole.

Vaibhav