Schism

Do I suffer from a breach

In what I believe in
And what I do?
For, be it my inheritance
Be it my association with you
I have been doing
Exactly what you did
May be worse,
Due to the world around
Turning more complicated and terse.
Rains do not remind me
Of that folk rain-dance
Chirping birds scare me
With their sweet stance,
Sky stands in ire
Your love makes me tired,
Mornings I sleep
And nights I wonder,
Did I have a nightmare
In those tingling thunder
That I dreamt of?
Awoke, and dismissed
Like my father's monotonous sermon
Of his expectations from me.
The plumage on my window
Of my mother's secret love
Indifferently cleaned by a savage shove
Of racing winds reaching crescendo.
I watch, as you did
Bewitched, Affairs sordid.

(Mrityunjay)
28.06.13
Kolkata