Old rooftops,Drifting moon,Soft brown eyesAndTouching hands ,Reminds me ,The need to sink in ,To end up where ;I supposed to beBut,I hope you think of me ,Whenever you too feelsYou are in unfair place.Andadrift again ,In hushed tones .
An empty cup
•I can not move,I feel so brittle,I stare at an empty cup,Resting on the tablethat can not moveAndbrittle too ,with the windows open.A train cry ,A little rain ,A quiet lightening ,I get up,less lonely;With the windows open .To see ,clouds ,Raindropsandlittle intimacy;In the shadows of the nights .•
When I die
‘When I die’Holds space of soft decay,An ache to belong elsewhere ,A need to slip awayfrom everything .When I die ,Stirs dreams of existenceFar from all the timesI sat with wishy washy hearts .Then,All at once I am there ,Free from joy or pain ,Reliving the minute,Right before it rains ,Letting flowers having me ;When …
Roots and worms
•I've came a long way ,Tired,ButI heard your voice,It gets slow ,I go with it ,In the curl of an ocean waveUntil a canopy of trees,Take care of my gentleness .Softly embraced ,by the windswept trees ,Resting deep among the roots and worms .Yeah ! talk to me , use treesWhen no one is listeningAnd …
Sky
I often think of ,my notionto unleash by skyAnd sometimes,I dream of that sky ,In your eyes ,Infinitely gentle , still , With a flock of morning stars .And I am standing still in hazy spot ,Under those morning stars , Along the rivers ,Where the words I write for you ; Brings you flowers …
