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Nikhil Sharad Poems
In fire I was cast from flames I rose my will made stronger my head bludgeoned.
I've to confess I still dream Of your descent From atop the ice-clad peak
Rise From The Ash
Exhausted by the fight To put away my pride My soul is weakened And is tainted
He Who Fell
On the porch Of my palace, Overlooking the gorge The jovial flame dances
She perched On a leafless twig And settled her feathers That the wind left ruffled.
Steady, They think you've lost, Stay down, Breathe out dust.
Against The Wind
With clenched fist and a smile I bid you adieu O sweet sacrament
Here we are in the misty forest embraced in dark, I pause here not to rest but to reflect on the past.
Thought I Could
Thought I could belong To the damp cold, the abyss With chaotic comfort, And lack of morality.
Comments about Nikhil Sharad
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
In fire I was cast
from flames I rose
my will made stronger
my head bludgeoned.
Bloody, not broken I am
by the war with fate
Suffering might capture me
but never conquer.
Adversary has found me,
and shall find me always
in the highest of spirit
Through swamps I've walked
falling and rising again
my knees made familiar
to the mire beneath.
I've been lost and lonely
in the endless marsh.
Took beating of the cold
bitter and harsh.
Land was only delayed
but never refused.
I've rested then
only to ...