How I see her….

Her eyes see me in a way,
no one else did or will see.
Like a cool gust on a summer day,
they pacify my torment and misery.
The waves of the ocean are the curls of her hair,
Lips are rose petals,
and her teeth are pearls to be fair.
Her presence is gleaming warmth in this cold and dusky abyss.
A candle in the dark,
to a sunrise, an ocean’s kiss.

The snowy night and The Knight

It was a snowy night, crummy and bleak

When the oceans cried and mountains felt weak

Murky skies, moonlight grew dim

The cold air was cursed and stank of grim

This night was the most precarious I had seen

My soul cried blood to the horrors obscene

I, the child of the eternal flame

FAITH as my armour and ‘KNIGHT’ in my name

I wielded the sword of HOPE with the witt of a thousand suns

I survived the long dreadful night but I bled out my expectations

I, the ‘KNIGHT’ still stand strong though I paid a steep price

The snowy night has passed and I hope to see the sunrise

The Final Piece

A tottering man on a lonely road.

Groaning, screeching and was calling out,

for the missing pieces of his soul.

Until he finds the pieces,

his barred soul won’t be set free.

‘Passion’, ‘Kindness’ are two of them

and ‘Love’ then made it three.

“Passion!”, he screamed, stars descended

Clenched hands though fingers bled.

Moonlight cascaded his being

The dark night got turned blood-red.

Bowed down on wounded knees,

He prayed with parching will.

The benevolent Gods then listened close,

‘Kindness’ sprouted in his soul,

Gushing rivers all just stood still.

Twas a long night, ‘Love’ was nowhere to find,

Gusty wind, through his beard, was hissing.

He was lost alone, he couldn’t go home,

As the final piece was missing.

The Happy Doll

There once existed a happy doll
Long shiny strings, they control it all
It sings, it dances, it smiles and jumps
Its arms and legs are well-sewn clumps
All who see it, smile and laugh
It’s known to break the sorrows in half
It’s such a happy doll you’d think
Wide shiny eyes, they never blink
But, there is misery and no one ever sees
one glimpse at it, your soul would freeze
If you ever see it laying alone
or when the puppet master is not at home
You’ll find it in a dark and shabby drawer
Discoloured dress and halfway tore
There are fabric patches on the chest and back
They tell the tales of a subtle attack
It sits and smiles but won’t complain
It cannot express its perpetual pain
You’d hope one day it would bawl
There once existed a happy doll