One over the other, the other
Over another, till the grit of longing,
Bruises the walls of your
Heart and demands for
The pleasure of scratching a
Half healed scar.
Like a flower leaving a fragrance
With a tinge of lavender,
The moon, making you forget
That his beauty is just a reflection.
The rain, compelling the desert
To sprout grass and the inability of
A dreamer to be sane even
For a night.
Like sleeplessness perching
You down into the submission
Of vulnerability and kindness
Winning a rigged combat without
The need for bloodshed.
The mountains calling you out
In the wake of a snowfall and
The rain-soaked roads leading
You up to a picturesque waterfall.
You gotta give in, to something
At some point of time.
Sometimes over a sparrow or
A cat. Over your own image
Or that of a lovely dog.
There will not be an obvious choice,
But you must choose a thing or two,
To bruise the walls of your heart,
To have a scratch-able old scar,
To somewhere truly belong.
No comments:
Post a Comment