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Writer's picturePoetryzine

Anjil Sardar:“ Fragile World” and other poems

Poetryzine magazine presents the selected poems by the Indian poet Anjil Sardar



Leave in the morning


If you leave,

Leave now, before the time enters the post Meridium phase,

When it's morning, my pre-conditioned nerves reject to stimulate benevolent senses, as it passes through rough nights, dwelling into a mystical world away from the harsh reality, I choke from within, resisting any feeling that swings on its way,

But I do mind, leaving you in the evening, though have a genuine cause,

Just after the twilight

a collective of yellowish and pinkish shades when creates a delusion, upon the sky, beneath, or might be close just under the clouds, which I could not afford to miss, from my lonely terrace, crippling my vision, which complies the next sessions of these wonderful evening paradigms, oil painted with melancholy

As if all the lost souls, who endeavored for years, maybe for decades, enduring all the failures, hatred, demotions of livelihood possessed by evil merchants

Crying to get free from their regret, they could not express.

A heavy outburst of self-realization.

Numbed eyes of mine, see black and white, might be sepia-toned

Rolling the wrongs all through the following hours, am not mine

On those times

control I did not have on me, still now, till this date

Don't leave me in the evening

Here on my vast balcony, with beer bottle vases planted with petunia and other flowering creepers, hanging from the ceiling, a grass lawn and an ashtray on a wooden table, smoked my life has been, when you left me

But the grass lawn has your scent, the French perfume, you put to enhance my nostril, which eventually hits into my brains

I miss your smell and kiss our fresh memories

Every afternoon

Just after the twilight

On my lonely terrace

Just let me know before you leave me in the evening, cause I fear my senses that depends, not on mine




Off the plastic world


Nothing can change the truth, still, we live and pass by all

those goods and accurately denied and paid a lot more than we sublimed

Change in my cloth

Change in my mind

Shaking, and trembling all the ruins, and shrines

Nothing changed till time

Maybe am scared and ripped

Maybe you all set it down

Nothing hostile your belief

This world in my eyes is gone, alone I see

True, that no one able to find their flesh and bones,

While being in this storm, blinded and charmed

Engaged and trapped

Help us to get off from this plastic world


Trenches are back to life

Scarfed around the lies

Brooding on the skills to survive

Nothing can kill the thirst, as lust complies, from the dirty hands to the unkind mind

Everything starts from the past, all the hides are now widened, but stones they thrive


Maybe you thought this would be the same

Lying motionless, against the gray,

Something's when inert, try to find a way

Brooding about the odds, and push back from the start,

Trenchant mind-storm

appeals to bisect my soul,

As a split-screen, on a plastic cell phone

True, that no one able to find their flesh and bones,

While being in this storm, blinded and charmed

Engaged and trapped

Help us to get off from this plastic world




There the thought lies


There the thought lies, when the dead man receives condolences from grief-stricken, empathetic souls, at that very moment, among the onlookers, in them the thought arise,

For decayed, it continues, no prisoners of war, all are happy with what it's worth, no pity for regulars, boorish along

At this point of time, on this very venue, the thought rises among others too, tough and rough, hard and unadjusted, astonishment on calm nerves

There the thought lies

Hued low, skilled all blacks, safeguarding their reserved zones, mass got mistreated, Lies, all over the air, no eyes are nice

Who started the war? Knows the end

But the ones who lead the dirt to let

Inch by inch, the words of honor faded

Here it goes as a loop of the vinyl

I see a confused mass, resisting self-developed thoughts

Here I see no unity

I close my window, no more beauty to see

Running all over, all through the pages

I could not find you, being in the same bed, in the late afternoons

Days changed as fast as mind and people

Folks ones will unity

Might end these days

These words are true, for me, for you,

I beheld a lot, whiskers and carpers

Leaving their homes, cause they in the city and towns burning smoke and, killing, noises of grenades and machine-gun ammunition chains

There the thought lies, when the dead man receives condolences from grief-stricken, empathetic souls, at that very moment, among the onlookers, in them the thought arise,

For decayed, it continues, no prisoners of war, all are happy with what it worths, no pity for regulars, boorish along

At this point of time, on this very venue, the thought rises among others too, tough and rough, hard and unadjusted, astonishment on calm nerves

There the thought lies






Fragile world


Break the fragile world

Untrue, it has been for years

Made us believe, stolen our faith

And written its chapters, keeping no stake

So when the day came, it did not need me more

Then used to be, winters are diabolic

This phase, all I have now, at least

Something to remind, you pass me by

You blinked an eye, I have seen you then

On a freezing winter

Passing by, let me light the candle

Let that be my pride

Cold fingertips of mine, could not light up a fire

The fragile world hides behind the shivering moon

This world latched onto lies, lies

All I ever cared for just a walk around this life

Exploring all the doors, the sun did not help, at night blossom like a moon

Starving someone to hide

Every little piece is arranged, alright

I may be forgetting the ways

To break through a point,

To make a home, following the act of an eye

A slit throat in a war, a broken vase in my room’s corner

Already my brain messing me upon my calls

Screams and echoes amplifying in my head

Take a little breath, take a breath

Your tone has eventually modeled and lowered down

Am not ailing further, for me this silence is golden

Cold fingertips of mine, could not light up a fire

The fragile world hides behind the shivering moon

This world latched onto lies, lies




When you left It's been five or six days you left your birthplace

And such tragedy occurred

I can't cry seeing you in saline

I can't see you having difficulty in breathing

It's been five or six days you left your birthplace

And shadow of my ignorance has overpowered your life

Just at night yesterday

When I have seen you struggling to keep up with life

I rushed to my mother

When I have seen you struggling to climb down the stares from the second floor

I took you cautiously in the boat formed by my own arms

It's been five or six days you left your birthplace

Your lifespan suddenly becomes uncertain

Try to fight the broken bones and your noisy nose

Filled with cough all through the years

You were born sick, but I accepted it

As well as your brothers and mother

It's been five or six days you left your birthplace

I started blaming myself

Keep breathing, try to get back Into life

Cause I have planned something bigger with you and you all

My life is not precious, when there ain't no you

Being just a pawn of god the poet has endeavored to create a world of delusion with his words, blended with truth and reality on the ground. He has nothing much, but a pen and a notebook and thousands of thoughts circling through his blood and veins. The words might not be rhyming, but his life has been much alarming. The poet has been daunted by the darkest times, and hear what you have, some extraordinary emotions, that will obsess you, possess you, and stay with you forever, maybe!





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