The Slow Death Of A Bard Poem by Sathya Narayana

The Slow Death Of A Bard

Rating: 5.0


Boss asks euphemistically
“You’re not the same force you were once”
Friends demand anxiously
“Hey! What happened to your antics and puns? ”

He smiles at once and embraces silence!
What can he say of something he wishes to suppress?
There is always in heart, something hush, hush
One cannot divulge and publish

For a pure materialist
This heart is a bloody pump-set
And for a staunch spiritualist
It is a holy nest where God rests

But lo! For a frustrated bard
His heart is a live hearth
Where there is no birth or death
For pain, laughter, love and hatred

Burning there are hell-fires
Evaporating his every dropp of tear
He is a static stolid volcanic cliff
With no hope for love and no love for life

He is left to watch the remnant soot
Of his unrecognizable past
Writing down on his inured inner rampart,
Slowly, letter after letter, his suicidal note

Soon we may hear his last melodious tune
When that over-burnt heart-hearth breaks open

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Catrina Heart 20 May 2009

so beautiful poetic narration here...meaningful one...THanks 10+++

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Ershad Mazumder 21 May 2009

Excellant piece dear satya. Keep on composing. Satisfy your soul. What happend to your book publication?

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Raj Nandy 23 May 2009

Sathya ji, A nice descriptive poem about the slow dying 'Bard' - who sings his swan song! I liked your poetic third para! - Raj Nandy

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Christopher Montalvo 23 May 2009

DEEP! ! ! I had to read it multiple times lol.

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Sandra Martyres 24 May 2009

This poem has a lot of depth in terms of meaning - excellent thought -provoking piece

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bard may die but his words will remain...

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Indira Babbellapati 02 June 2009

one of your best...nay, the best!

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Ravi Sathasivam 02 June 2009

Great poem indeed. Enjoyed reading it

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Shashendra Amalshan 28 May 2009

wow that was amazing write....hope you are not writing from a personal xp though 'He is left to watch the remnant soot Of his unrecognizable past Writing down on his inured inner rampart, Slowly, letter after letter, his suicidal note Soon we may hear his last melodious tune When that over-burnt heart-hearth breaks open' well I feel like this when I look back at past...but you know what sir....even to commit sucide one needs great courage..there are some people who live, only because they dont even have the courage to commit sucide..life is like that I guess..macbeth said 'Life is but a waliking shadow Poor players that struts and frets his hour upon the stage A tale told by an Idiot, full of sound and fury Signifying nothing' nice poem indeed sir..10++

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Angelic(Annie) Female 27 May 2009

Nice one- keep it up, was fun :)

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Sathya Narayana

Sathya Narayana

Nellore, Andhra Pradesh
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