Given all taken nothing,
A shy morning humming a string,
Even if it is a new, bright day,
My black heart will always be full of dismay.
Let’s talk not of the green villages,
Haven’t seen any of them since ages,
Talk about the hard, harsh stones,
Talk about misery and pain unknown.
Once there was- a heart to bond,
A smile to glow on face and beyond,
A hand to hold and walk along,
Warmth to wrap a sacred song,
But again, wasn’t I left alone!?
Sensitized, hurt and pain prone!
Inside hollow, outside low,
No tears, no panic, but a ceaseless woe.
Oh pray! To Thee I pray!
Let the clouds of despair fade…
Show me some rose, melt the knife,
Give it some gold- my mere life!
- ► 2012 (15)
- ► 2010 (16)
- ▼ August (11)