You might now guess this mystery
yet, I repeat-
What I demand will always be a
mystery.
Neither bling nor riches
nor a part of your history.
But what I demand,
will always be a mystery.
It is but naive to understand
if you try to-
try to understand, try to explore
what lies beneath my shield,
what lies beyond my horizon.
The chains around my soul,
load burdening my dreams,
storms beating away my bud
before it will ever bloom.
Yet, here I stand
still, still as a canvas
that is yet to be painted;
helpless, wondering of the sun
blazing with a ray of hope-
hope to fly amongst the blessed
hope to die amongst the blessed.
You might now guess this mystery
yet, I repeat-
What I demand will always be a
mystery.
For it is not a song that can be sung,
not a talk of the endless dreams
that fade away like passing clouds,
but as chaste as the love one experiences,
as innocent as the toddler yet
to walk his first step.
What I demand
is a chance, an opportunity;
not yours, not hers
but mine-
mine to live with, mine to die with
and mine to be with.
To see it be born again, crawl again
walk again, laugh again, dance again
love again and live again.
And now I say
and I say it firmly;
What I demand
is no longer a mystery.
For- it is life,
my life.
- Sparsh Chandra
Commenti