The sky is a poem

The sky is a poem,Painted in vibrant rhyme,It cries in gentle metaphors,That drench me time to time. All its hues are varied moods,In its colors bright and bold,Are underlying similes,And narratives untold. It blushes in crimson allegory,Through sun kissed golden odes,And merges into bleaker nights,And snowy, pallid roads. An embodiment of elegies,It lists to this…

Night break pt.II

The twisted woods enveloped,In lifeless gray haze,The night ever so motionless,An indomitable maze, Woody naked branches,And their distorted canopies,Dark flowers bleeding down,On leafless, dying trees. The forest floor rustling,Under chilling, voiceless screams,So realistically fictitious,Like sombre lucid dreams. Weirdly humid,But every breath so icy cold,Frostbite on our cotton cheeks,And fear manifold. The feeling of being watched,From…

Night break pt.I

The glorious pines stand,In their battle scarred gowns,Taller into the starry sky,Belligerent and brown. A mystical aura,Drifting through the air,Ambrosial and damp,Complementing the moon’s flair. Enchanting music plays,From the orchestras in the sky,Little flickering fireflies fly,as the old peaks sit by. Gurgling creeks of silver flow,Laden with fish and toads,As this verdant moss ever so…

How Eternal?

I brood over the fact,Eternity to be precise,If eternity accompanies,In life and demise. Death doesn’t wait for any,Nor the infant in the womb,How long can eternity stand itself,In its eternal tomb. If it exists it always does,The most precious all around,Timelessness might be radiating wisdom,Waiting to be found. If eternity doesn’t stick to time,How long…

The grainy monochromatic photograph

A fading red heart on aDusty cover page of anAlbum bound with memories ofPeople holding hands, and ofEyes perhaps happier thanThose staring at them, because, Sepia tones and tattered corners,Black and white and worn out borders,Have eyes that smiled at each other, notThose that smiled at cameras, for Pictures cannot just wait to start, How…