Autumnal love


The low patterning of the rain clinging to my ears slows down,

The silence of the night creeps into….       the nightingale sings in the patience of the bloom,……

……. the inevitable bloom in the glory of moon…disappears behind the clouds,but playing hide and seek again emerges out……

The wind blows gale chill all the day giving the trees no rest…..

As I walk ,the low rustle of the disheartened leaves makes me dive in the slumberchain…….

A long lost tune which eloped with the song behind the ebode of snows among the mountains of relupracative strength…..

It is then ,that the humble touch of numbness pierces my skin ……

And falls on my heart ,                                                                  the radiant shafts of                                                                Autumnal Love……..

Marks on my grave

His looks were the one which held my heart captive and had drawn me to its edge during the dawn of my blooming life…..

His beauty originated in the mist filled valleys and the towering mountains…

His voice commenced from the clear gurgling of the streams and icy white glaciers…..

His eyes had captured me by their breathtaking beauty…..

His lips with nostalgia and affection spoke words whose evocative descriptions made me static for hours….

Traversing hundreds of miles on the carpet of roses through the city in my heartland ,he mingled in my blood…..

Not for many days he was mine or I was his….

But for me it was a chain of attachment of true love for me….

A chain which if I break free from or even try to ,will never be able to do anything about the marks that it has left on me…..

Those marks I will take to my grave….

The alley where my heart laid




Have you ever paid a visit in that alley where my lucid heart used to sojourn,on the dust filled, coarse mud…..

Everyday a new ray of hope ,a new silent wish touches it ….

Might be you would hear what it wants to say…

Might be you would clasp it reverently in your arms….

But all days the moon sinks in the night sky with the urge remaining half earned….

You never come …..

Generations and ages pass…..

My heart still kills the time,                                 interluding for your arrival,                                  to ask you a question……

Will you ever make ”your heart” sit beside mine…….

 

Into the mist

Cooling my heels, I quietly prop across the inept turf…….                                          Laggard and sedately, I don’t know when and how I had inscribed the entire sod of my heart to “his” name….

When ever I saw “him” I used to unfasten myself through a crescent which I could never discover again…..

Whenever “he” was in front me, “he was like a shielding cloud casting it’s cool shadow on me….. 

Whenever “he” was in front of me, “he” was like a ‘pour of happiness and love’ for me…. 

I had almost relinquished my life to “him”….

But all of a sudden, that should of cloud or the pour of happiness and love dissolved in the mist of the cool winter’s drippy ambience……. 

                   .     .     .     .     .     .     .     .     .       “He”crushed my navel in just two shakes…. 

I tried to locate “him” everywhere…                                     But “he” was found nowhere….. 

Resignation to fate

The roads are dusty, like the quiet lanes of my heart……                                                The dust travels over, getting blown away by the wind…..                                      The pale leaves are brown with their veins visible…..                                               The veins of my heart are also throbbing hard due to the excessive pain……                       My soul is exhausted by suffering………so famished that it wants to leave me forever….

These days the birds do not chirp for me during the hours of dawn…..                                These nights, I do not count the stars but only mourn…….                                                          These noons are calm without the sunlight peeping through the leaves of the trees………  These evenings are dejected without drinking life to the lees……. 


                                   

I pour the wine, in a glass…. The other lies empty beside…… As if looking to get a drop of shampein…..

I sit by the window and sip the wine slowly…… The effect gaining fast upon me….. My eyes dose off to sleep…. But I try to keep them open by staring at the white envelop lying on the window pane containing the bilido my  resignation to fate……. 

Which would be carried by the dove during the morning of my last day…….