She.

In her home,
no sun shines,
outside the door,
the winter's breath bites,
Afraid of the rain,
she walks away tonight
from the season's colours
that paints her in carmine.


A few red drops on
the corner of her lips,
A few more on
every inch where she bleeds,
she drips her finger
and writes a song
of harvest of the vilage
she left behind,
of the flower that came
near her with the wind,
of the rain that sheltered her
when she didn't need it.


she walks ahead
to search for the girl
she was before,
but never
does she sees
that
stranger
again,
for she
has
turned
into a
woman
of
love.

Piano.

Half empty feelings,
An open notebook,
With a half dead flower,
that means a world.


Black and white,
the keys untouched,
like a bottled message,
left unnoticed on the shore,
waits for the waves
to take it back.


The curtains dance
with wind's secret romance,
soft whispers fades away,
like dying stars,
And there she waits
for that song of love,


which will
turn her into
a lady
who is
virgin
no
more.

broken

you feel,

my roads are covered with roses?
But my wings were broken,
it was nothing,
but the rain,
that bribed the wind,
and helped me fly.


But i could never find a way,
out of those eyes
whose love turned me red
from a blue butterfly.

And as i realized
this is where i wish to stay,
i was reincarnated to a dust
that had to move away,
though beautifully broken

from inside,
the wind that blows
still reminds,
those eyes were of no one,
but of you ,my rain,
who helps me to heal
tonight.

Name on snow.

12 th March 2009.
there are different things which makes a person happy.
this one gives me smile every time i see it.
thanks to him who wrote it. :)
there's a different joy when someone writes your name in snow,
i have felt it....
not everyone can
understand the joy.

am so happy . :)

silence.

Before the storm arrives,there always lies a silence.
that silence, and the storm can be got over.
But what about the silence that lies within?