Quinquagen’s Song
A Lamentation
Four and fifty breaths, bated
Not a moment lost, amiss
Quinquagen lies, awaited
Expecting, regenesis
Nigh the time for dirges
Sloughing the past aside
Rise! Quinquagen emerges
To cast its gaze awide
Behold! a wasteland, riven
By empty sands and dreams
An aimless quest, fore written
The future is past, it seems
Frail and weathered, the fruit
Of labour, Quinquagen’s toil
Where bounty, so absolute
Instead, this senseless soil
Hulking, Quinquagen rises
As sand sifts sadly beneath
Torrents of used disguises
Betwixt its fingers and teeth
Burdened, the plodding feet lifts
Dreading that tedious trudge
Atop, the weight o’ the world sits
Dragging that infinite drudge
Quinquagen uncages a sigh
That rumbling echo of pain
That loud reverberates by
Drowning its passions insane
Eyes that are dried out of tears
Staring, the starless sky
Quinquagen, shedding its fears
Howls at the darkness to die
A sad melancholy cry
Bursts out of Quinquagen’s heart
Ripping the pale pink sky
Tearing its memories apart
A horde of Brownian sand
Fueled by anger and pain
Erupts from Quinquagen’s gland
Each mote, a poisonous stain
Alone unforgiving mud
The ground, abandons its grip
Quinquagen lumbers and thuds
And sinks, the sand a whip
Eyes half buried in sorrow
Drowns Quinquagen’s soul
Invisible hands that burrow
Till death, the desert’s toll
Unni Nambiar (Oct 12th 2018)
