For the stars
You had promised,
I've still preserved some
Darkness in me.
For the rains
You had assured,
I've still kept some
Thirst unquenched.
And for the rainbows,
My bleached heart,
Still waits like a canvas,
In its whitish glory.
Paint me or taint me.
Bruises or some blemishes.
Just don't leave me
Stabbed with apathy.
Not the violence of silence,
Don't want this emptiness again.
Pain or some peace,
I just want to feel . Again.
She's the pompous
Thunderstorm,
Hauling high
In the sky.
I'm just a meek
Rustle of a leaf,
Lying by
A creek.
How should I conjure
Her mighty attention?
I'm just a muggle,
Knowing no incantations.
I can only beseech
For a sign from her.
Maybe; a glance.
A smile. That can
Ward off this
Dreary longing and
Spread a steady
Gleam on my face.
Give me a refuge in
Your comforting arms.
And sing me a lullaby
that can wake me up
in a dreamy warmth.
This mountainous tread
Between birth and death is
A melancholic cascade.
Buoy me with your caress and
Infect me with some life.
