To prisoners of the Past.
Clutching at the last straw.
Hanging over the edge of an abyss.
Since a Millennia.
Addicted to the opium of the past.
The moss and fungi laden air,
Fumigating our lungs,
Asphyxiating our sense of existence of the present.
Greatness fossilised in the resin of our blood,
Remains frozen like a colloid in our arteries of thought.
No logic will penetrate the dead wood,
Its not wood it's not bio degradable.
The constipation of ages, has clogged our soul.
It is dying,
It cannot twiddle its toes.
When o when shall you leave your fools gold?
The past does not last, the present is in the moment,
The future beckons, your languishing soul,
It begs you to reckon.
Hardik Vaidya's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (To prisoners of the Past. by Hardik Vaidya )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Darkness of the Day, Pintu Mahakul
- A cigar aficionado, Cyndi K. Encinares Gacosta
- The City, Cyndi K. Encinares Gacosta
- Heartless, Cyndi K. Encinares Gacosta
- A Certain Beauty, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Brel2, David McLansky
- Untouched, Pradip Chattopadhyay
- Being Enriched, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- If we meet again, Mellinda Aimee Jajalla
- Wondering How To Find Conclusions, RoseAnn V. Shawiak