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Where I walk away

Parched tongue

and dried tears

do me no favor;

Not then, Not now.

 

I look up

for the first time

in the waning hope

that I see you.

 

That all so familiar

scent kills me,

for now I know

it’ll never be you.

 

My broken glasses lay in the corner,

they’ve fooled me enough.

Now I won’t take it,

not for a second longer.

 

My hands have bled

onto the paper,

as I have mused you

with every drop.

 

My tears, now dried

abuse all else,

drawing my blood

and spilling it all over.

 

I’m sorry my love,

This is where I walk away.

 

-Prathik Rao

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Shadows Past

The solitary sun

Set on your cheeks,

And the moon rose

In the depths of your eyes.
In each breath of yours

A tender wave curled,

And in every blink

Time would fold.

 

In your petite smile

I would freeze,

Frame by frame

I may fall apart.

 

In every step I take

By the rippled shoreline

Your shadow overlapping mine

I find an eternal peace.

 

The earthen smell from

The nape of your neck

Blends in lovingly

With the sea breeze.

 

But now I’ve stopped,

In a time vacuum,

But you stride on

Sharing another’s shadow.

-Prathik Rao

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Some Day

There is another day;

A day where the sun never sets.

There is another day;

A day full of hope and strength.

 

That is the day;

The day that I wait for.

That is the day;

The day that I see you.

 

Once again the day

That escaped my grasp

Is back again to mock me

And torment my memories.

 

The Spring perfume

On the nape of your neck

From years ago still

Regales my Mind.

 

I await that day;

The day that I see you.

I await that day;

The day that I’m whole again.

 

There is that day

In the not so distant future,

Where I see you forcing

All my broken pieces back together.

 

-Prathik Rao

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Maroon’d

My beloved, O angel

Remember me, dear;

In every breath and

Every step possible.

 

I journey’d far and wide

To the edges of the world

To find the treasures

And make you a Queen.

 

I sail’d into the doldrums

And now lay maroon’d

On this lonely island

With the last case of rum.

 

I scribble my last words

So you may find me;

My undying hope and

My thirstful love bound.

-Prathik Rao

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Setting Sun

The setting sun,

A myriad of colors

does make the heart

grow fonder and fonder.

 

My dear Sun,

I pray to you,

Take my message

To my Beloved.

 

I wish you set,

So you may rise

To warm Her cold cheeks

and ignite a smile.

 

All I wish is

For Her to wake up

with a smile on Her face

knowing that I love Her.

-Prathik Rao

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If only I knew

If I knew that that was

the last time I saw you,

I would never have taken

My eyes off you.

 

If I knew that that was

the last time I held you,

I would never have let

Go of you, my love.

 

If I knew that that was

the last time I kissed you,

I would do all I could

To remember it.

 

But now I sit all alone,

for I knew not what you felt,

Because Love has no excuses

Love has no limits.

 

I brush off my last tear,

I gaze at last onto the horizon,

For I know not what later beholds,

But I fear I may never know…

 

-Prathik Rao

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Don’t assume

Never tell a soldier, that he does not know the cost of a war

Never tell a lawyer, that he does not know the value of a lie

Never tell a woman, that she does not know real pain

Never tell a poet, that he does not know heart break

Never tell a child, that he does not know innocent play

Never tell the poor, that they know not the hunger and struggle

Never tell them your presumptions, for you don’t have their eyes

Or their heart…

-Prathik Rao 

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End of an Era

500 days ago

I took a leap,

A leap of faith

Into your embrace.

 

I felt like I never did,

I loved everything about you,

From your quirky laughter,

To your million moods.

 

I felt your pain,

stood by you in the rain.

I won’t deny you loved me,

you loved all that you could.

 

Today you tell me,

That the love has vanished,

That I am but a pebble

Wedged between your toes.

I have but one thing to say dear,

“True Love never Dies”.

 

-Prathik Rao

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An Unsaid Eulogy

Here’s to all the things

I should have said.

Counting the days one by one,

we existed, but never lived.

 

I’m sorry you waited

For as long as you did;

Each moment you wasted

Is a moment you died.

 

Today you rest,

Five feet underneath

where all unevens meet

and turn to dust together.

 

I failed to give you Happiness,

I failed my Holy writ,

I wish I could tell you

atleast now, if not then,

I loved you then, and

Always…

 

-Prathik Rao

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Old Friend 

Speechless, I sit

While you pour your heart out.
How ever did I Love you so?

How did you ever love me So?

You loved me when I doubted myself ,

You stood by me when I lost my place.
My heart, it beats for you,

I do whatever I can for you.

Mon Ami, my love,

The world’s languages don’t suffice.
My life stood incomplete,

For before you I was naught,

With you I have everything,

For you I will die

Old Friend

– Prathik Rao

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Ode to the Darkness

In darkness I lie

Measured by the drop,

The cold tentacles pry

My scarred soul out.

 

I lay so still

By the hollow rivers,

Filled with souls

Only a passing face.

 

What was I?

I know not.

Whence was I?

I remember not.

 

I feel no pain,

I feel not agony,

The darkness engulfs

The oracle’s scales,

And the weights weigh

Down on account of sympathy.

 

I died for another’s God,

And the world doesn’t know my Name.

-Prathik Rao

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Wax in the Chasm

A poet is a candle,

Burning at an end,

Lighting up the corner,

slowly Melting away.

 

Drip by Drip I fill

the empty chasms of the hold,

filling the cavity

I leave my little mark.

 

The flame is now Warm,

With tiny flickers I glow;

Thinking the world of Me

For lighting up a corner.

 

My thoughts are the wax,

My works are the flame,

While I fade and melt away

My Remnant remains.

 

In solitude I remain,

My flames now dead,

I remain in the hold,

As Wax in the Chasm.

-Prathik Rao

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The Vacuum Within

The Vacuum within

Sucks my Heart dry.

The singularity falls,

And floats within.

 

Like a teacup,

On a tiny saucer,

But useless was it

With no Tea within.

 

Though blood rushes

Through my thin veins,

My heart is empty,

No feelings within.

 

My eyes turn to the Heavens,

And drops waters in concert

With the Towering Clouds

To hide my weakness.

 

Amongst company I’m alone,

Contemplating emptiness

For what is company

Against the vacuum within.

-Prathik Rao

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A Journey Never Ending

Life is a Journey

Between two Lovers,

Far apart they Stand

Staring into each other’s eyes.

It is all that exists

Between “Birth” and “Death”,

Death- the grumpy Lover,

Birth- the forever giver.

Death stands in the Dark

With a peaceful rage,

Birth being of such Nature

Sends countless Gifts.

As Birth sends these Gifts,

Death keeps them Forever,

Never to return, forever kept,

Till they meet unto nothingness.

For Life is nothing but this,

A Journey Never Ending.

-Prathik Rao

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So was he

Man-under-tree

That Sun-kissed cheek,

A lack of shade,

The young man searched

For anything nice.

His throat so parched,

And a tummy so loud,

He sat from the sun,

On a burning ground.

He waited so long,

With Hope none at all,

He had succeeded

And yet he failed.

He paid for sins,

Not his own,

Ancestors suppressed

But so was he.

His fault, that he was born,

To the wrong people.

A genius now lost,

For he was a Brahmin.

-Prathik Rao

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Chaos Of Man

Brilliance of mind,

but derived,

Into the gyre of society,

Lost in purity,

Life dwells in the stony hearts

of  God’s sons.

Created by one measure,

Built on by a pleasure,

reflected on Nero’s guests,

visible in religious conquests.

The stony heart of Man,

wasn’t meant to clan.

In sword did he trust,

In the Titan’s honor was he thrust,

In fire he saw hope revived,

In his wrath but none survived.

Chaos of Man, Puzzle of God,

A story Untold, I begin to Prod.

-Prathik Rao

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Chasing the Evening Star

The sun was still sailing

On the clouds,

Thinking of sinking

Into the pit.

The birds flocked

In unanimous chaos

To find their true heading

And their beloved nest.

I stood now at the foot

Of the hill,

A winding path now lay

Ahead of me.

I looked up,

At the peak of the hill,

For now a light shone,

Bright as the evening star.

Confused I headed up,

And through the perplexed path

To the top of the hill,

To find out what it was.

I traversed through the path,

Seeing in my wake

The bounties of life,

A mother cow giving birth.

The blades of grass

Now painted red,

Glistened in the sun

Breathing for the first time.

The hue traversed

Over the linear paths

On the blade, and slid

Over its tip onto earth.

The dew now gathered

As the mist now lifted,

I could see clearly

Further than my outreached arms.

I came up about the falls,

A small stream by the way

Swept the alarm’d calls

Of the deer away.

Up and about,

I ran by the streamside

Hoping to god

T’was just a call of eventide.

As I came by the side,

A deer sat by the tree

Licking its glorious Hyde

To a golden hue.

Five feet away,

At the stream,

The faun ventured gay

To cross over the stream.

Perplexed I ventured on,

And here I met a man

With time written on

His used hands.

Curious he asked,

Where was my heading?

What was my intent?

And all under the sky.

In a single breath I sang

In the silly tone

That you hear in classrooms

That I wanted nothing but the star.

Dumb! He retorted,

I was doing nothing

Worth my time

Or my strength.

I waved him off,

Bid him well,

His path I wavered off

And went along.

As the path wound

Up the hill, I staggered

And leapt over pits and

Sneaked past the hound.

When finally I was close,

To the end of the path,

I could see her again,

Only now I stood still.

She floated aloft

Over the peak

And shone brighter

Than the evening sun.

Draped in white and red,

An angelic smile adorned

She swam in the air

Like a love to spare.

She turn’d to me,

Trident in hand

And asked me

How I ventured so far.

I spoke to her,

With errors none

Asked her

What it all was.

She sang it all,

With eloquence:

“Oh my dear child!

My dearest are thee

For you have undertaken this trip

In the search for not me but thee,

At the start, you met me first

As a cow, giving life

Yet you thirsted not, for for you

It was not the journey, but the end

That defined the brilliance of it all.

Then I came to you as the faun,

Lost and weak, begging for sympathy

But you turned not, and kept on.

Then I came to you as the old man,

Wise and knowing, yet you kept on

Despite all that I said. You my dear,

Showed no resolve, leaping up and about

Winding was only the path, but you

Kept straight and on!

My dear you’re special,

For you were unflinching,

And you were unwary

While all else is humane”

Then I awoke,

Not knowing what I dreamt of,

Knowing only the end

Forgetting the journey.

I slaved up the hill,

Only this time I was awake,

This was the magic

Of my town in Coorg.

For we all but dream,

I dream of chasing the Evening Star.

-Prathik Rao

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Empty Preachings

Of Love I am,

Yet none I have.

Of Love i preach,

Yet none I have.

Heart beats sting,

Yet none I feel.

Eyes do wander,

Yet none I see.

You would love me,

Yet I trust it not,

Till my last gray hair,

Yet I fear it still.

Like a bot I recite,

The Formula that made,

Knowing not what

It really means to me.

For I preach from a pulpit,

And yet live in a Serene tragedy.

I preach what I don’t know.

-Prathik Rao

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The Lady under the Blue Umbrella

I stood there,

Stood there so lost,

The rain flowed down

Hard, like it was monsoon.

There she stood,

Like a ghoul blessed,

An umbrella perched

On to bless her pretty head.

Alas! A rowdy drop

Dropped down her cheeks

And reflected the blush

That crossed over.

With a flurry, my heart

Raced ahead in leaps and

Bounds, for there she stood,

With the Key to my heart.

This is the saga of the night

Of the storm with the Lady

Under the Blue Umbrella.

-Prathik Rao

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The importance of Signification

The greatness of the great
Separate it from the rest.

What would sand be,
If it does not build dunes?
What would sound be,
If it does not create tunes?

What would time be,
If it does not run away?
What would death be,
If it does not pull away?

What is strength
If you feel it not?
What is fear
If it scares you not?

The heart of a man does not count,
His actions make him significant…

-Prathik Rao

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A Vacuum Infinite

Engulfed, I sate
In a vacuum Infinite…

Who am I?
Bloody hell, who am I?
You, Oh God! Tell me
Who am I?

Am I someone’s friend
Trusted to be a shoulder?
A joker in a gay mood,
Or a shield keeping foes away?

Am I that old lover
Decorated by those kisses?
Smelling of an exotic flower,
Am I just to please the missus?

Am I a mad poet,
Surrounded by the sane world?
Loving all the hate?
Boring the bored?

Who am I?
Bloody hell! Who am I?

-Prathik Rao

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A proposal

This is my first time,
But I swear this is
The last time.

I shall never ask
Anyone again, and
I swear on me dear.

For I fall in love
Deeper and deeper
Every time you smile.

In your eyes I see
A heightened hope
For my calm future.

For dear, if I may,
May I dare ask you to
Love me back the
Same way I love you?

-Prathik Rao

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Metamorphosis

Thrust into beauty,
The morph sat on a leaf…
From serendipity
The creature breathed and pondered…

Once a caterpillar,
With a million limbs,
And one mighty fear,
A fear of growing…

“What would I do?
Growing and hibernating
Left open to danger,
To all sorts of beasts…”

Then came a moth,
“Leap into glory, all glory
Trust in time and nature, both,
For all who wait and believe..”

In the moth’s path
Did the caterpillar walk,
And in belief it believed
And turned into God’s own angel…

-Prathik Rao

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The Stony Immortality.

In the roaring silence I now stood,

All that beat were the moth’s wings,

In the gilded glow my sores boiled

and in the sun my creases cracked.

My stony countenance, my fogged

vision, spans the wide valley, and

Finds a blade of grass growing in

A barren patch of devilish sand.

Eclipsed by stone in all but one part,

A spot protected by the dying leaf

on my foot now lives, for my body

is now immortal without a life.

Sculpted by the Allfather, bound by my

wits and freed by my death, for

my death is a performance I shall

play forever. In Immortality I

Found that I was not free, but one

without a road, for all that in life

I did was to run, terrified of death.

-Prathik Rao

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By the Blue Hills

By the Lake, at the foot of
The Blue Hills, I stroll’d
To the lonely rock of
The shore by the lake…

I sat pondering, lost over
And over in time, with
A little Blue cloud hover
Over my head, charg’d truth…

I picked a rock, and skipp’d
It across the mighty oasis
Of mists… Here it stopp’d,
At the lake’s genesis…

It spun about and about ’til
It dropp’d, back to its root
It descended… It did in me instil
A fear of the loss of Home…

I turn’d around and all was gone,
To a misty cloak it surrendered…
And in this cloud was I lost and gone,
For that cold cuddle took me out of time…

-Prathik Rao

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Mysteries and Myths

Mysteries and Myths,
Have forever alluded us.
For one never knows
What tomorrow holds.

Mysteries and Myths
Have forever alluded us.
For one never understood
The magic of love’s First kiss.

Mysteries and Myths
Have forever alluded us.
For one never guessed who
Lit the fire of passion in your eyes.

Mysteries and Myths
Shall forever allude us.
For we never know what
Mystery Mystery unfolds…
-Prathik Rao

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Hektor’s Adieu 2

A Herculian task

lay ahead. And

yet early in the

day. In the distance

a Wolf duels with

a Mongoose, each

with canines that

cut deep, but a

strength that varies.

The swiftest moves,

slipped the eyes

of Old Priam. The

Wolf snaps at him,

and hence fells

Apollo’s son. The

Arms that Touched

and the Lips that

Caressed, now grew

cold, throwing many

hopes down the Fort.

-Prathik Rao

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Hektor’s Adieu 1

The day crispens
The dearest buds
Of night. And
The ray touch’d
My cheeks and
Woke my doom’d
Self. I rise to
The echoes of
“Hektor! Hektor!”

I bid goodbye
To my infant heir,
Whom I have
Frightened beyond
Contemplation. But
There stood one,
Challenging my
Worth. With a
Thirst to exact
Revenge, for the
Spill’d blood of a
Beloved cousin.

-Prathik Rao

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Our Love…

Our love is a
Dew drop, glistening
In the morning sun,
Waiting to be awakened…

It blooms like a
Rose, fragrant of
Heaven, with bees
Abuzz all around…

It tastes of nectar,
So divine, so pure,
That the gods have
Now turned green…

But yet it will
Be a grain of sand,
That lasts every summer
For questionable eternity…

-Prathik Rao

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My Last Love letter

Sitting in St.Petersburg
I wrote on a slip thus:

“My dear I waited, long
Enough to bear. I Fear
I have left for I Fear
I may have lost you. I
Fear that Rasputinian surge
May have consumed all
That I hold dear. But
Fret not, for the czar
May have left but my
Warmth for you never
Shall. I wish you dwell
With poor Ana ’til I
Return in an age to shower
Flowers over the rubble in
Honor of our memories.”

And this I tuck’d in the corner
Of the chair in the station,
And left all that I hold dear,
This is My Last Love-letter…

-Prathik Rao

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My Tear

Don’t underestimate
A tear, for it bears
The price of a million
Dollars by the tag…

Don’t shed a tear
In vain, for it marks
The strength of a
Person’s own loss…

Don’t catch a tear ’til
It marks a corner of
Your heart, or else
It may flow away…

Every tear is worth
A fortune, to the
Right person, for
Its value never dies…

-Prathik Rao

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Sonnet #001- Ebb of the River

The waves and the swirls of the river have
Hence been an ode to the olympians,
With Rest that churns out life, a Godess ebbs
From her source, the rocky shades of the mounts
That jewel the crown of the world, and the
Fish that swim and swarm these waters, do quote
That if the godess never did exist,
Nor would the souls that live in it, or on.
And with every monsoon, arrives the great
Deluge, drowning the villes cross by the
Lines of Gods, that seperate two kingdoms,
Destroyed by an occasional rage, they
Wriggle and compost in plain sight of the
Mighty gods, who scan perhaps with their eye.

-Prathik Rao

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On the Terms Of Absence.

It is a song,

So Unsung, a

Dialogue exchanged

At the moment of a

Particular Genesis…

As the Magician,

Gave to Us the light,

And gave us Time,

Only to make a folly

That he never saw…

The Magnum Sun,

That shone so Bright,

Questioned the Universe,

“Who will rid the Dark,

When I am Gone???”

To this, the stars

And the moon stood

Quiet, and out

Spoke one tiny, little

Earthen Lamp…

“Let the Skies be

Dark, for the sky

Is thy Abode, but

For me, I will shine

Sitting on stable ground…”

In another world,

The Wizard would

Ask, and state his

Query, to the Angels

That surround him…

“If I slept, who

Would forsee what

Man would do???

Who could be a Father,

With no absolute Form???”

To this, the Angels

Sang,” If the world

Loses its Sight before

the Light, it would

Survive by Humanity…”

-Prathik Rao

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What is His Name???

“There he stood in

Our view, staring at

Us for all life…

“He was important,

Yet duly seen….

And when he was at last

Remembered, he was

Already forgotten….

“But what makes him

Precious, for me and you

Is that he changes and yet doesn’t…

“History remembers his

Notoriety, that i always

Love, for he taught me,

Through it a lesson, that

He is an opportunity…

“With a million rebirths

He presents his angelic

Form, demonic for mankind….”

“Who is he mother? What is his

Name? Where does he stay?

Where does he dwell?” asked a

Child… “His name is Time dear,

for he is not one of us…” said She

-Prathik Rao

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Hunger!..

“Shut the door”, said she,
“and turn here now”,
And a frail, little soul
Turned and looked up…

His moist eyes wanting to
Quench their thirst, and
His Sickly body, was able
To stand for now…

His brown eyes, looked
Expectantly at her… The
Mother looked back at
Him, and shook her head…

“There’s no food yet, none
For you, me or the rats,
And none to fill your
Empty stomach, no!..

“Wait for five minutes,
Let me make some
Bread”, said she, “just
Five little minutes Angel”…

“But in five minutes,
Momma, I won’t be hungry
Anymore; Let it be spoilt, uncooked or
Rotten, I want to eat something now…

“I want to fill my tummy
And quench my thirst,
Momma”, said He… And
Soon the sun set over the house…

-Prathik Rao

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Ode To My Sister

Your Smile brightens
My day till it blinds
Me, and your Laugh
Just adds to the magic
Of the day, Mesmerizing

Your brown Eyes
Dance around your head
Like a soulful ballerina…

And as you talk, your
Voice as sweet as
Honey, pours into my
Ears and renders my
Day, as beautiful as you…

And the thing that
Endears you to me is
Nothing but your endless love…

Those Dimples remind
Me, of our memories,
Good and bad, and as I
Write, remember this my
Baby sister, I will always Love you…

And to my dying breath
I swear, I will keep alive
Your beautiful golden self…

-Prathik Rao

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Crimson Eyes

Strolling down the country
Path, the Doctor saw a
Light… In a house that
Echoed with the sound
Of tappering feet, it glowed…

But with caution did he
Tread, while the door opened
With a strange creak…

And as he made his way
Into the house, he stepped
Warily of some presence, those
They say, haunt these rooms
And around the moors…

The wind picked up,
The storm rolled in and
The lights went out…

With fear filling his pale
Face, he stumbled around
To find the nearest wall,
But no matter how hard
He looked, the room was endless…

Out of the dark stared
Two bloody Eyes, with
Crimson hues so piercing…

Now the tale in the town
Goes, that none know what
Happened since, for never
Were those Eyes seen ever
Again, nor was the Doctor…

– Prathik Rao

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Alone I Row…

Alone I Row,
I Row the ferry,
None but the fish now
To keep me company…

The Yellow leaves
Have all withered away
The path’s now clear
To let me pass…

And as I Row through
The quiet flow, with
None a harbor for
Me to shelter in…

The birds have stopped
Singing, the Fish have
Stopped dancing, and
The trees have stilled…

And as I Row, the
Wind blows the leaves, and the fruit has now
Fallen far from the tree…

Alone I Row,
I Row the ferry,
None but the fish
To have me company…

-Prathik Rao

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Died a Desert Flower…

Alone it stood

By the highway,

A desert flower

With none a dew

On her petals…

It cried a sandy,

Stony tear, for

The dying hope

That there was

Any hope…

Its loneliness has

A due; there was

None to carry

Her own seed,

To bear fruit…

It stood there,

Lonely as a cloud

On a Summers’ day,

With company only

By a million grains of Sand…

There was nothing

That kept it alive,

Neither Water, nor

Fire, and hence it

Died a Desert flower…

-Prathik Rao

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A Dove’s Tomb

An artisan’s hand is

What I have, I build

Castles and dreams, guild

All the gold there was…

But my hand chose to

Build a fair tomb to a

Dove, a dove with the

Heart and not peace…

The dove sang songs of

Praise of the emperor, and

The ruler meekly humbled gave

Into its white lies and charm…

Now the dove deceased,

Leaves behind a nest of

Fledglings, to fill and

Frolic the throne…

And chose He, me to

Make a tomb for eternity

A reminder of this dove,

A saga in white, an entity…

Unknown to the world,

Its marble lustre, and golden

Inlay, were my markship, and

Our workmanship…

Our hands severed, we bled,

But the king only saw the

Beauty that the tomb had,

Hence it eclipsed our misery

And our effortless death…

-Prathik Rao

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The Dialogue…

An ant asked a

bee living away

from his colony,

“How do you live,

without company?”

To this, replied

the Bee,” It is

better to rot if

in solitude, than to

rot in company.”

“Know this ant,

that hundreds die

there everyday by the

ills brought upon us

by bee-kind…

“It is wise to stay

away than to suffer

for the ills brought about

by the whole company,

ain’t it ant?”

“Words in Jest, or

Words that are cast,

they stand true”, spoke

the Ant, “But life for anyone

never stays the same.”

“Life does change, true,

so does the immortal time,

words do change”, said

Bee,” but company and

enemies never do change…”

-Prathik Rao

By the threshold

Today I stand

alone but strong,

staring out the window

for the faintest trace of you.

The same gentle breeze

drafts into my room,

but my eyes remain

fixed on the street corner.

I still see your footprint

where you once stood,

but now it’s just a mark;

No you, no shadow, even.

Today I stand

adrift but rooted,

while I wait by the threshold,

you knock on a different door.

– Prathik Rao