Nature

Of the enchanted world
Which tunes of rhythms
A melancholy of beautiful knit
Woven into reverberates
A nightingale sits alone
Bemoans the lost voice

A decree of manifestation
Of a prolonged hazel wish
The meadows speak of the lost glory
While birds sing of the last tune
A wanderer of life come by
With golden rays enlightening the pearls
Of all a sudden the breeze awakens the world
For the searching soul never stops

Exalted to the infinities

And in the deep desolation,
in the utter of slumbered pain;
a soul finds itself bruised,
to animosity of awakening love.
When the wounds bleed,
of unhealed words,
and scars scream loudly
with every vein pushed hard.
Lo! The heart aches,
while pumping pain around.
The eyes stare blankly,
in the infinity of darkness.
That is when it sets out
to liberate itself of plights.
And lands into the world,
of peace and amity.

And once in a jungle
She wrote a para of heart
Cuddled the joy of love
Flew the dove of peace
Splashed the water of purity
Felt the breeze of oneself

And then one day came a beast
From the land of unknown
Of rules and customs curious to her
He had those blue eyes
Reflecting to her
The her

She now finds herself
Forced into cage of fears
The wings once fluttering
Now flatter the her
To the deep down dark
Woven by a decent gown

And once again in a jungle
She wrote a para of heart
Mourned the joy of love
Fell to catch the dove of peace
Gathered the water of purity
Stone-hearted the breeze of herself

Looking at the moon,

Cluttered in the aura of amity
Hovered around like a fluttering soul
Aroused by the colour of wings
Orchestra of the rhyming love
Shattered into pieces long ago

Truth reveals itself somehow,
for the fears will tear,
into pieces fallen apart.
And life will no longer be
as was bestowed then.
For the sooth of serenity,
and the sparkle of fire,
the redness of your attire,
the gaze of your eyes,
the charm of your flare,
the mighty sound of roar;
but still a heart full of light,
a head free of desires,
a soul dominating lust,
a lie smashed long before___
the terror might not be new,
yet not be welcomed.
For the right doesn't bow,
and never did. 

Don't know,
where the words come from...
How they tell stories,
of known to unknown...
How the aching soul,
pours out of bloody ink...
From whom they derive,
the essence of life...
And the why the paper;
feels the scratches of,
love and hate...
Yet it is thirsty of showers;
of touch of writing hand;
of rolls of pen.
An uncanny hunger!

I swung into you hands,
like a merry go round.
And you pushed me away,
like a shooting star.
And lo I landed,
into the lap of galaxy,
with warmth of serenity;
of glitters twinkling,
a sweet cuddle.
And below you standing,
gaze into the sky;
ear all towards it__
shooting for a star;
yet a billions,
pieces you apart.

The grave once a melody,
now mourns over it.
The memories once charm,
now hide of it.
The steps once a rhythm,
now silence it.
The heart once loving
now guards it. 

And while looking
at a shiny star,
I thought of you.
For you echoed of it,
distant;
alone;
grieved;
yet the causation of
beautiful aurora;
enlivening space.

Watching the alluring shore,

I walk beside the meadows,
to shelter the world of mine;
for the world is deaf,
to the words of heart.

I sat down at the stairs,
roam in the street of thoughts;
while the coffee I hold,
screams till gets cold.

I dance endlessly in rain,
facing the mighty sky;
till my tears soak,
in the immensity of drops.

Wanted to unlock feathers,

Sometimes,