This Body Is Fickle

This body is fickle
Build it and time
Will break it down
Creaking and grind
These chugging bones
To a screeching halt
The motor stopped
Cracked with faults.

And that dream of destination
When the journey began
Is lost in the twists
And turns of chance
That lead us unlistening
To our resting place -
Traintracked by fate
Our lives drive straight.

And this whole world
like an open field
Teases us to think that we are free
Each blade of grass for us to grab
Each blade to cut this flesh we have
To bleed and bleed until we see
Our shining souls are eternity.

Copyright © 2005 Prabhath Avadhanula