Here I sit,
the bare hearted man,
with their heart
in my hand.
I can no longer pause
to wonder
the trifles of life,
and stand rapt in awe,
I am as good as dead:
my eyes are closed,
for the eternal light.

But yet, I find myself,
watching and thinking,
“If the blood of liberty
flows in their veins,
why doesn’t it spill out?”

Ah! Heaven knows,
I have no desire
to live forever.
Heaven knows,
I have no desire
to sing forever.

Heaven know,
my desires –
I yearn to sense,
the liberty before I die.
I yearn to kiss her lips before I die.

Ah! But deep, deep inside,
the sedimentary layer,
beneath the lavas
of my existence,
below the foremost
level of intrusion,
the small dikes of my life
are diminishing sharply,
and they are piling
a terrestrial trap -
to blanket the stories of my life.

Ah! Will I be able,
to relish her lips before I die?
Ah! Will I be able,
to caress her core before I die?
Ah! Will I be able,
to park my head on her lap,
and waft, the last puff
of my life, in the midst
of her eyes?


Copyright 2006 Bhuwan Thapaliya