I am living in the shielded cocoon of my dreams in the hour glass where sand pours…
The secret dwell of my growing celestial feelings in the love galaxy where only I stay.
The cavalcade of trance beats of my life slowly plays to take me to his land; his palace;
Where the icy frozen bed embraces me and almost gives me a passing heavenly death
The dust on the rotating fan smirks as it observes the metrical beats of our breathes
And the yellow wallpaper grows on me as it smiles to hide the secrets that we share
The badinages and winces come to life as I see the hexagon pixels resembling him
The worded glint in my sinful sight exposes all but the mystery hid behind the reel
The sweet breathe of the chocolate smoke mingles in the air as love clouds swirl up
My green veins get visible enough with my controlled fists as the reds flow incessantly
I build a culvert on the ripples of my thoughts to suddenly get wounded by his razor
So might as well bask on the present beach; building sand castles in place of cement ones
Rapturous jiffies encounter me with every warm fleet of sensations warping up my body;
I jump on from one lotus leaf to another and lose the way to my lonely abode afar…
My chirps and his whispers muddle up to bring out emotions in our candid expressions
And I mould myself like clay to fit into the mood matchbox he keeps in his side pocket
I swing on to sleep in his cradle as he pampers to see pictures which will never be painted
I play the hopscotch of life trying to balance myself, picking up the pebble that lay beside
I feel like pushing the hard stone of ill-luck down the valley and straight into the ocean
The apathy of helplessness wears me out as I try fixing the same colored cubes together
Deep in the woods or on a lonely road, why does my shadow haunt me wherever I go?
No one sees my inner emptiness when I sound different with the use of those umlauts…
The best season of my life shall not come again and these flowers shall never bloom
But I still have to grow in the garden of time and bud in some other tree, some other life...
Will my paths change if I ring the auspicious bell of that old temple at the cross- lane?
June will be coming anyways and I shall be getting wet in the night rain like always…
The valleys separate the mountain peaks and unlike our fingers they shall never meet
May be our lives are on different but parallel acmes to see each other but remain away
I will survive with your footprints that follow the direction towards the Arabian Sea
I will live on the shore with memories and wish that you be merry on the other periphery
I perceive myself in the magical mirror that you gifted me on that treasured Tuesday
I find a new me inside the reflection but I see you hidden beneath; smiling like always
I am the participant of the face painting competition with no color no design put on me
Because everyday I comfortably wear a new mask of colors that they want me to be in
I sing the melancholy songs of pain so that their broken hearts can soothe momentarily…
They praise my pacific voice but who notices the saliva that I used; to swallow that lump
I wonder if I make sense of some utterances; some questions that have scarred my mind
There are some abstractions, some inquisitions whose answers are more than two lines
I think about penning down the ten line replies as I remove the split ends in my hair
I don’t want to reach an age where I remove the white hair still ignorant of those answers
Splash a bucketful of water on my face when I dream of reaching the podium of love
One does neither prepares a speech nor gets a reward to conquer a queen’s empty heart
After wandering a million years, I again met him on the same street down the bridge
After crossing circles and circles of miles we again smile at each other at half past three...
The 4-Hour Workweek – Book 32 Review
5 years ago
1 comment:
My favourite :)
Thanks for dropping by :)
Post a Comment