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I am confused .

I am the hero of someone's dream ;
I am the villain of someone's interpretation ;
I am as eternal as chaos in your approximity ;
I am as real as the rising sun .

I am in love , atleast I pretend .
I am in love , atleast they interpret .
Yet I have never been in love .

I have never witnessed;
 the love as expressed
in  people's literature, in sonnets and music .
I have never seen
 stars shining  and moons seren .
I am a monologue , a loaner
in anguish and fear to carve a  sky .
I am the dialogue ,
answer to my  conscience;
to win or to lose , but not to get rejected.

I am confused
for I am not in love
 as dictated by sonnets ;
 as presented by classics ;
as portrayed by theaters ;
as pretended by protagonist in reels.
I am not in love
as they are , as they all are .
Yet I smile when she smiles ;
Yet I drink when her pain travels .




Comments

  1. Anusia30 October 2014 at 03:31

    Very nice and beautiful poem.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Sankha Aditya18 December 2014 at 10:55

    Whatever confusion you were dwelling in, you have successfully transferred it onto the reader's chest.
    Beautiful words Anupam.

    ReplyDelete

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