Lost Boy

Like the moon which
Subsides the stars of their dark;
Or rather gives them a glow made from its core,
Of pure benevolence, and of kinder a tad bit more;
Like the hills which
Touch the sky delicately;
Or rather intertwine their song,
Of love and lust, forgotten for so long;
Like the bird who
Feeds its young ones;
Or rather gives them a push,
Of holding themselves to the wind whoosh;
Like the cat who 
Mews to your soft purr;
Or rather gives you a little hope,
Of true love, of reasons to let go of mope;
Like the dog who
Wags its tail when it sees you;
Or rather takes you to the heaven,
Where you’re its home, you’re in all its ken;
Like the lioness who
Anoints her soul to his;
Or rather lets you smile at the rigorous
Dedication of faith, and the skin of solace;
Like the girl who
Braids her hair daily;
Or rather solves the problems of her head,
With meshed, incomplete thoughts falling on her bed;
Like the boy who
Never gives a second thought to himself;
Or rather moves where the light flow of fluids,
Turn to solids and gases; where you turn to kids;
Like the magician who
Incants his son, and his daughter;
Or rather shields them of the troubles
He will put them in, in the cracks of cobbles;
Like the chauffeur who
Enjoys a hilt, and opens your door;
Or rather closes another (like God) with ease,
Because you fail to see the warmth of winter freeze;
Like the little kid who
Gives you his lollipop with a smile;
Or rather lets you see how gestures like those
Can hold such weight, can let you survive through blows;
Like the vendor who
Greets you a good day;
Or rather gives you a promise,
Of a sweet, homely, sunny nirvana; of confined bliss;
Like the singer who
Sings his heart out to his sister;
Or rather points a finger to your eyes,
For never seeing the truth of blood, and its lies;
Like the farmer who
Cooks for a place at his funeral;
Or rather reminds you of all good souls
Being faithful to surfeit, and to empty bowls;
Like the mother who
Gives her life to (for) you;
Or rather permits a life of lost,
Of significance, to revive love and its cost;
Like the father who
Burns his soul every second;
Or rather lets you breathe in oxygen,
Of which you think is free; of victories he won;
Like the beast who
Dresses up every night to an empty house;
Or rather appreciates the beauty which contains him
And stares at the mirror which lies of his uncommitted sin;
Like the place of
Neverland, and of never growing old;
Or rather of a glimpse invisible to the hoi polloi,
You are the Peter Pan, dearie;
And I am a lost boy.

14 thoughts on “Lost Boy

  1. This style of writing, ubiquitous in length, yet smothered in rhetoric, is quite well. However, there seems to be one single issue-
    This whole blog, head to heel, skin to bone, is figuratively draped in agony. Pain. Misery. Sadness. Hate. Loneliness.
    And although I must confess my writing style, albeit a smither more concise, is practically the same, this focus on what hurts the most is rather uber-realistic.
    When was the last time you laughed like it guaranteed you a night in the ER?
    When was the last time you made some one laugh like that?
    The Hate yoU Give, a Little Inconspicuously, Fucks Everyone.
    Keep smiling.
    Wars, deaths, rapes, murders, calamities are all there to give us frequent reality checks.:D

    Liked by 1 person

    • I do love your acknowledgment, though, just one word out of context, “Misanthropy.”

      I love people and their personalities.
      I’m observant about and for them.
      People, on a rudiment level, intrigue me.

      Also, I’m glad you understand the dark person I am, but i’m rather disappointed you can’t see the little emotions which bring life to me hidden just if you give it a second glance.


      • Had I had had the time or the energy to give things a second look, I would’ve shortened wars by years if not decades. But that’s me, stupidly hyperbolic and utterly lazy. The follies still flawlessly define us.

        Liked by 1 person

      • You’re still awake? School nahin jaana kya? xD
        It’s alright. There’s a lot in the world to appease this dusty old guy.
        I’m Bhanu, by the way. I found your blog… Long story short, I found it. xD On Facebook?


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