Spoken Labyrinths Poem by Avik Datta Gupta

It was the best of times,
It was the worst of rhymes...
When the new age of wisdom got shaken,
When the pen and the sword were broken.
It was the epoch of belief.. turning over another leaf..
Of disbelief.. before our eyes!
A pill of truth swallowed by a fluid of lies!
A season of light..
As murky clouds set the brightness right
And we went on and on...
Said some words and became anon
We got lost... and stayed lost..
Like aimless winds and the heedless dust
To be or not to be.... was out of question
We were all honorably ordinary men and women
No one looked and no one would care
To see if we were lost..or really there
All we had was a tale of numerous cities
Telling the same old story of biased vanities
With different endings that seemed very new
The right turn of the screw
Into every passing year..which would be willing to hear
The heresy of words..emerging from broken pens and swords
Playing on our tongue after cooking in the mind for long
Yet, , words fail to impress as it always can't express
The unspoken syllables of the soul
All the words that they stole
Out! ! Out! ! brief candle! , give us the splendid Sun!
The poetry of the earth is never dead
The worst of all faces still are human
It's all up there in our head!