The story of the night
That night when you came to my room
Touched my hand, caressed my unquenched lips,
The unquiet stars, ramblings of the moon,
Let us not unite.
Murmur, spreading its wings in the vein
Desire flexing its way into the heart
Seduction wrapped in the night’s cloak
Rained heavily through the frame.
Herald of the morning
In the drop of the dew
The world screaming us to gather
pieces of us strewn around.
Floating in the stream of momentous past
You guide me to exile,
Away from thy existence, Close to the sighs.
You came the following night
Riding on the pinions of hallucinations
Grandeur, hark I hear your enticing eyes
Salvaged but ravaged in time.
Halt, thee prince of trance
Seek what belongs to you not
Conceived in the womb of yearning
Submission is waiting for salvation.
Posted on January 27, 2011, in poetry. Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.
Seek what belongs to you not……………And what is mine and whats not, where is the boundary, that separates!
LikeLike
in the mind may be
LikeLike
The world screaming us to gather
pieces of us strewn around.
.
.
.
.
You guide me to exile,
Away from thy existence, Close to the sighs.
Ah!! what a surreal image you paint … totally loved it !
LikeLike