My Verse

From the blood of pinched veins

We need to draw

Still many lines

Those words yet to be spoken

That torment somewhere in silence

All the confinements

Of illusionary being

Has to be crossed.

In wretched obscurity

As line of fire

My verse.

Enemy

He awaits me
But when I'm there
I'm ignored.

He awaits me
Hence, he still stands.

  
                                                                          

SPRING

Spring shall come forth

Teeming blazing water upon ice

Tingling the breaths…….

Shall come as stress lines upon forehead

Sweeping away hardships

Ascending the rugged mountains

It will gush down as rivers

Laying backdrops

Blossoming colours

Modeled as per wishes

Would sprout blithely into the womb.

ps: Can't really express how lucky I am to have posted this. Here comes a unique blend of relations..emotions... The Image comes from my Best Friend, a painting which depicts the aura of spring while the Verse comes from my Dad's book Aur Kuch Nahi Toh, a translation of his Hindi poem Basant.

Muses, I can no other answer make, but, thanks, and thanks.