A Song Of Existence Poem by PRAVEEN KUMAR English Poems

All round anxieties in being
Strain warmth of the essence
In inescapable, steady upheavals
Of flux
On the brink of death
In wait,
To sink in dark womb
Of coarse ignorance;
No armour to protect
The being from nonbeing
From temporal onslaughts;
No peace, no confidences,
No continuity in being.

Life, an irrational stream
Of unconnected bits,
A flood of changes,
A mad whirl of flux
With being in the eye,
Thrown to mad wind;
Like weak mind,
Caught in spiral of doubts;
Like lonely bird,
Lost in violent storm.

No root, no end;
No link makes sense;
A spurt of existence
In shades and shadows,
Thrown to vacuum
In infinite space;
Directionless,
Where death stares on the face
In dreadful, dreary coolness
Of imminent destruction.

No powers guard,
No lights guide
The process of being
From the shocks of disorders,
Unleashed by crude time
In queer quantums,
In blind leaps
On uncertain route
To the strange bowel of nonexistent future.

No reason reigns,
No fulcrum
To revolve around;
A desperate run
Through the vacuum
In pursuit of freedom;
Weightlessness
In mid-air
Like Thrishanku,

A not-here-not there syndrome;
Unguided becoming
That blinds the essence
In liberty's unkind glare.

Being is responsibility,
A conscious plunge
Of hapless essence
In choosen course
From infinite cross-roads;
A desperate commitment
To naked choice
In oncoming incertitude;
Being is guild of incompetence
In hopeless human state
Of piecemeal decisions.
Glued by imperfect existence
That drifts apart
Being and nonbeing.

Living is courage to be,
Across all round despair
Of inescapable anxieties
Of death, guilt and vacuum;
Living is living as it is
In sheer faith in existence
In wakeful resignation
To infinite perplexities
Of finite situation.

Existence is own making,
A wakeful groping in darkness
For nonexistent light
Of ultimate fulfillment;
A bid to build ladder
To nonexistent Heaven
With incompetent tools.

Being is flot on despair
And anxieties
Like little tine bubbles
On surface;
Yet, being it its own,
Own existence,
In conscious courage,
In responsible commitment
And transcends the quirks of time
In quite quietude
Of the nonbeing's becoming
That constitutes existence
To precede vital essence.