‘warrior vs poet’-an indifferent guy?

from the pages of my upcoming poetic novel,”an indifferent guy”.

publishing on 1 jan,2018

“what it is to be like you,to be free?” with those cold eyes that life gifted him,the warrior asked.

“like me” dropped by poet’s mouth which was used only till he got his pen and verses,commented poet with a bit comical smile.

“Well,it’s quite amazing to be me,

cause never did i try,

nor i was to act someone else.

well,

i can do wonders!

better say i am a wonder,

if i may not consider as a flaunter.

i can smell colours,

i can hear feelings,

i can bear hatred,

nonetheless; the love!

can you see them?

those sparrows disguised as clouds,

their flapping as soothing wind’s mowed,

and chirruping as the comfort fold.”

“comfort,last heard when i was a child”warrior commented in a tone of vexation.

continued the poet,

”and there that tree,

can you see it?”,

poet asked warrior’s attention.

“yeah ,the lone and abandon one,

standing in old man’s feet,

clearly drowned in loneliness,

either it will become a warrior or a poet like you” said the warrior.

“yeah, the one who once was free,

and is remembering his fellow tree,

good part is,

he is embracing the days he’s left with.”poet replied in an usual tone.

“only fools embrace fate,not the warriors!” groaned the warrior.

“alright , can you see it,the purple lightning ”poet said pointing hell emerging from heaven.

“the vicious one”yanked the warrior.

“nope, pardon me but you got it wrong,

the one embraced as Rohini’s anklets,

referred as messenger of Indra’s mercy,

and the one which shows the ‘might’ beyond the sky.”poet replied to warrior.

“All right Mr. colours, tell me ,

can you see the might beyond my cold eyes,

smell through my past and feelings,

and hear the ferocious parade of my heart.

can you?

Tell me ,what am i holding beneath?”infuriated Warrior bellowed on Poet.

A Calm voice was heard by shivering surroundings.

the source was heaving himself and some soil.

“you are a lot like a soil,

buried in the darkness ,

once was a ROCK,

a mere part of mountain,

unrecognised and nameless,

then you fell off,

and experienced the life’s sins.

i am not interested in aftermath,

i just want to know the flower which made you to bloom.

and in turn it made you soil from a mere rock!

tell me the name of that flower.”

poet declared his vision,

warrior’s pupil dilated,

as if the landmasses would seize to a point,

in between the great abyss!

For warrior ,

an abyss of memories.

“Bougainvillea”replied the warrior.

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.

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ANUVERSE

https://anindifferentguy.quora.com