Silhouette

is
my,mytime aloneness
in quiet midnight 
the tired world sleeps
a transitory stillness 
the siren of ambulance
outside, on the empty road,
brings me a shiver.
vulnerability of my living,
shedded leaves of fall
out side my window,
 the bald trees in grief,
eagerly wait for a springstart 
my longing heart 
still searches your silhouette 
behind the draperies,
in the blank white walls,
or in the overhead ceiling
silently, 
butterflies play hide and seek
in the middle of night
an aura of guilt
somehow hovers near me
as i dissect the then,
possible permutations 
and combinations 
i know 
you will come 
tomorrow, same time 
i will ask you then
when the overcast sky 
will blow away 
for a sunny bright day 
when will i see you 
other than in my lyricism!


Kamakhya 

Image credit: Google 


Silhouette

is

my,mytime aloneness
in quiet midnight 
the tired world sleeps
a transitory stillness 
the siren of ambulance
outside, on the empty road,
brings me a shiver,
vulnerability of my living
shedded leaves of fall
out side my window,
 the bald trees in grief,
eagerly wait for a springstart 
my longing heart 
still searches your silhouette 
behind the draperies,
in the blank white walls,
or in the overhead ceiling
silently, 
butterflies play hide and seek
in the middle of night
an aura of guilt
somehow hovers near me
as i dissect the then,
possible permutations 
and combinations 
i know 
you will come 
tomorrow, same time 
i will ask you then
when the overcast sky 
will blow away 
for a sunny bright day 
when will i see you 
other than in my lyricism!


Kamakhya 

Image credit: Google 


 

Simplicity

In the chilling winter
he was feeling the heat
inside, deep inside the heart
amidst his own people
he was searching him
whispering,
is he labelled worthless!
if it is not hypocrisy,  
what must be then..

He wanted to say,
to be listened to,too 
they were not amused,
he craved to reach out
with warmth,
warmth was not returned
in exchange,
in true measure
but he too wants to be loved

why he is like this?
but he is like this.

In the drizzling rain
near shore drenched in grief
he could feel the waves
touching his toes
retreating to sea 
looking like they retreating,
from him 
but could not feel 
whether it was tears or rain.

A rancour in the eyes,
melancholy piercing his heart
he went on to think :
is my simplicity to blame,
is my less fortune to curse,
is my ignorance to pretensions,
my biggest enemy,
my weakest link !
till he met the man
who said : 
Let them be they 
you be, as you are 
for the father, up in the Air,
knows who is fair, who is rare.