Hope in the Auschwitz

(Wrote this after reading the book "Man's Search For Meaning" by Vikotre Frankl. The way he talked about his wife and his conversation with her in his mind during his difficult days in the Concentration Camps, wherein he didn't even know if his wife was still alive in the next camp close to him. And he had no means to find out, so he kept her alive in his thoughts.)


In my darkest times,
Your presence in my past showed me the light;
Through my wounded nights,
Your thought slept by my side;
Our reminisce in my dreams,
Brought smile to me even in hard realms.

My sand color skin,
Been wrapped around the mortal being;
The number that I am identified by,
Among the similar dying body lines,
I wait for your call to tell you how I feel,
And know how you have been.
Thinking of the day if and when we may meet,
I endeavor to die less every day and stay on feet,
Hold on to my breath to not leave me.
And ask my heart to not deceive me.

I see the human count go down every day,
And the new faces join to be bald soon by every passing day.
Can foresee who next will find solace from this grave,
Then look at myself into the mirror,
Witnessing to soon be on the same bed that was emptied today.

But then I look at the dorm on the other side,
Where they took you, and think you must still be alive.
And today I saw a faint candle light and heard a familiar tone,
Coming from your camp seeking its way through the cold.
Realized its your birthday and couldn't hold my cry,
And I prayed looking at the grey sky;
Asked for less pain for you and give you hope that this time may fly by,
And to keep you alive for if we survive.

Those Wandering Eyes

Those wandering eyes

That kept looking at the new sight,

New people around,

New city surrounds',

Those eyes caught a warm sight,

The one that looked brighter

among other lives,

The one who for no reason made the lashes

Fall down,

Looking at whom every time,

The day looked brighter.

But no,

It wasn’t,

It ain’t what you are thinking,

It wasn’t love,

It wasn’t lust,

There was no desire beyond getting,

that innocent sweet sight.

And then,

The years passed,

The sight faded,

The memories remained,

The gossips of old times remained,

The cities changed,

The surroundings changed,

And one day,
The same sight reappeared,

And the same old innocence,

with an added age reappeared,

And the unknown got to talking,

And then the knowns started walking,

And before their words the eyes conveyed,

And together the vows were laid.

She Reminds Me

We share a life
Though we are two different beings,
Its not the Valentine love,
that I am talking about,
But my offspring that I got
into being.
She reminds me of the love that
is forever fed in my skin,
She reminds me of the love
I have for my mother
deep within.

Moving Still

I sit by the beach and see a lone boat,
It seems to be moving with the current.
But after an hour I see it still there.
And I wonder, I wonder if that is how
every eye persevere.
The people who seem to be
moving ahead,
Are they too held by an invisible
anchor?
An anchor of orthodoxy,
An anchor of fears,
Or an anchor put by someone
that pulls back
every time when one tries to spur.
As I go deeper, deeper into this thought
I see the boat moving
by the stroke of the paddles.

And I get all my answers,

An answer that states that everyone need that one stroke,

A stroke that pushes you forward,

As that what the science of nature says,

Without any external force,

Nothing in this world can ever move.