Trumpet.

and thats how the new year begin….
I can hear in my loneliness
the melody of this fleeting moment
foot steps of eve’s drifting away
with the demise of the day
night’s creeping in.
I can perceive the silent throb of my heart
racing for an unknown breavement
flaunting hues are blending in haze
Towns are tumbling down to ashes
I can behold the transformation
of love,
into this wilderness
where haunting horror has reigned
Listen yourself if you can
This demise of day will sound the trumpet of death.

.a.
Jan 02, 2007

5 thoughts on “Trumpet.

  1. i love the imagery and the personification of this poem.. this makes reading ur poem a treat..

    i love this line

    I can perceive the silent throb of my heart
    racing for an unknown breavement

    and this tagging.. its actually asking ur friend to write on something u ask them to.. like my friend asked to write on 5 people i hate which i did and made the tag live by asking others to do dat.. ofcourse it helps to remove that writers’ block which made me hibernate for more than 2 weeks.. also it helps to bring a change to ur blogpage..

    u wanna be tagged by me?

    and i visited ur site, live.com and found ur paintings and liked ur pros section…

  2. is there an error in this line or its just me?:P

    and thats how the new year begin….

    anyway Nice post but then again..No negatives about the new year…atleast none for me:P

    PS: please remove the word verification

  3. thankyou mano, i got this tagging thing finally. 🙂

    CN, actually the first line is not in the poem itself, i wrote this poem on the first of jan, hence this line “thats how the year begins” with the demise of the day!

    ps. where is the word verification *confused*

    or may be its me, sleep deprived. *yawnss*

  4. hey. wat was this poem abt?

    are u trying to convey that with evry new yr, one yr ticks down from a coutdown to extinction…i perceived it tht way [:P]

    correct me if im wrong plz

  5. not a ad perception at all.

    however this poem simply means that every days ends with the dawn of night and it sounds like trumpet of death. i cant explain the main idea in one line though, if i could i would never had written a poem; or on the second note i still have written the poem :p

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