Tear.

Tear~
how can some people take something from
you that you don't want to give?

People should stop making others cry,be it happy or sad.
At present,I want to be alone.
all alone.

My lady

Last eight nights,
like some petals of
a folded rose,
saved in a notebook,
i lied near her.

As two strings coupled,
my heartbeats
that never echoed,
were scrabbled
on her pages,
just like a
distant sad song
of the reaper
that died long ago.

If it was just
the ashes,
Then what brought
back life into
that rose
which died
decade before?

if there was
a thorn earlier,
then why did
my lady
shed a tear
to make me whole?


the rose has bloomed from the dead petals
and is alive now.Does it means,it has
to go away from the notebook,
leave away her home? for if you ask her,
she prefers to be just
broken petals rather.

If you say the rose is alive? why kill it again? why ask her to leave that notebook which was always her home?

tied

will keep everyone safe here.

Friends

Sing me a song again,Like you do when i dont hear,

Hold my hand again when i say i wish to be alone,

Am missing a friend today.

My Grandfather.

Soft whispers of memories,
fades away
with dying night,
and i sit all alone
trying to find you
among the stars.

That lemon tree you planted,
after ages,it has bloomed.
was it really the flowers?
or it was you,
leaving behind
your last breathe
in bits and pieces
as a goodbye?

The walks i have,
shows me your footsteps,
evening stories echoes,
just like the tune of
that piper ringing in my head,
i can still hear.
but can't find.
what made the piper
play the game of hide and seek?
where did the piper disappear?

the eye drops i hold,
half read books,
the morning newspaper lies,
come back.will you?
won't you complete it tonight?

the songs you wrote,
the silence you left
the cries of my mother
the unsaid goodbye.
just like some purple dreams
turning black and white in my eyes.

everything will change,
like seasons changes,
the girl i am today,
shall meet the woman
tomorrow,
and she will also know
that her life will be empty
like it was before,
without her grandfather.I have lost a lot of things,
 
the new year was just the worst.
sometimes your last words
just run in my mind.
i wish i could...
miss you.

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.