Thursday, 16 April 2009


The snake sneaked in
A silken sigh.
I felt the vomit
Urging its way out
And I tried not to
Let it run amok
In a frenzied charm.

The endless pangs
Of venom
Rioted in me;
As I saw your shadow
Fade away
Once again,
And all I knew-
I wanted to sting.

The hatred thrill
Drowned the plastic smiles
Of everyday;
And the need to hit
Grew louder, wrenching,
Almost like a bleating goat.
And I tried to stiffle
My own scream.

The betrayed soul
Longing to avenge itself.
Betrothed to destroy
I live, ever alert.
Hoping that maybe,
The shadow
Would materialise
Out of nowhere.

And with not a drop of toxin,
But mere spite-
Venomous spite,
I'd find you wither,
And falter,
Breathing your last.
And then,
I shall find my smile.

Monday, 6 April 2009


O' song bird of mine
Sing me a nascent tune today.
Let me dance and swirl along
Like a wisp of the hanging orb
Dripping into you.

In the dainty desert solitude
I sculpt a dream dune
Of passion, buried.
In the heat of the moment,
I scoop a handful of sand
So gleaming gold.

As the loneliness screeches
A shrill note,
I block my ears, lest I rupture
My eardrums, and remain deaf
To your symphony.

O' song bird of mine
I hear your muted sonnets
As I awaken myself to your melody
I find the sand slipping away,
And I hear nothin, no more.

I wonder,
Would you sing to me,
Once again?

Friday, 3 April 2009

My Futile Tune...!

I shall whisper to the winds
All about those times
When I longingly waited for you.
Day after day, I waited
Whispering a futile tune.
(You never came,
But, matter not, it does- now.)

I shall rinse the rains with my soul
As I often did.
The rain always did taste salty,
Or was it just me?
The tears never welled
Nor did it pour out from my heart.
(You never understood,
Not that it matters- now.)

The mahagony tree shall grow old
Ebbing the weakened pulse
Of mine.
I wish I knew the tree song
To sing out loud
To you- a lullaby soft.
(You never listened,
And, nothing matters- now.)

I often stay back after dusk,
Under the shade,
And I whisper to the winds,
The lullaby soft-
But, you never would know.
Not even when you feel my tears
Fall upon your skin;
You fathom it to be the lissome rains,
Don't you?
(Not that it matters- now.)

But still, I wish...!

Missing You Blogger Template