The Longing

What a singular creature that I have been ;

Born in this thriving house of bane ,

with ears the traitors, silence the sane.

I befriended misery to fathom the unseen.

Emotions though free men, tears but prisoners be ;

For untamed tongues spill out a deceitful cacophony.

With thoughts my food and solitude belonging ;

I scrape through the day for that very longing.

Longing to be with the one very dear ;

Though visage unknown and contours unclear.

Yet, beneath the heavens, my heart knoweth

of a soul, pure and mirthful, it often speaketh.

Longing to kick open the chambers of my heart

full with untrodden corridors dark.

And while thus she sees her lover unveiled ,

I would inturn perceive a new man revealed.

Longing to feel that very first touch ;

And devour it as if life wouldn't offer much.

To feel the chill go down the spine ;

Of souls the union, as bodies entwine.

Longing to hear my tongue obey

the surges of mirth or of utter dismay,

that ever riseth in this human heart.

Though madness I favour, with stolidness I part.

Longing to feel that very longing

when the dearest isn't nearby.

Cursing the void as if feeling

sans her, life's a big tearful sigh.

Longing to behold the destiny's allegiance ;

To my humble longings, the future's compliance.

And now, clinging firmly to faith's icicle,

I meet life headon; whether victory or debacle.

                                                                     ---Sauru