Crowned in that word.
The sun rises and sets where you sit,
Like Siddharth under the banyan tree,
Have you found yours or do you pour yourself into indulgence?
Revelry. Feast. Drunken pleasures.
Does Bacchus knock on your door nightly,
And then possess you in heady oblivion?
Hedonism is your alter ego,
The siren song that draws you in,
Till you lose yourself.
Till you forget.
It’s a well known cliché.
But where does love remain?
The heart is scattered,
As you roam like a nomad in the Sahara,
Picking up vestiges of that forgotten word,
Does one need to find love to find home?
You long to be the phoenix,
That rises into the saffron sky,
Spreading those wings like fire,
You long to release the spirit,
The joie de vivre,
You are the mirror of my soul,
There’s no religion until you appear,
No soul, no heart, no words,
Godless, faithless, careless,
I am an empty vessel,
Till you fill me,
With your life source.
You are that shining orb of gold, mon soleil d’or,
One look of longing from you and I am,