The levitating of a new dawn,
The withering of another night,
The end of another tale along,
Whilst still silent in their minds;
Unworried, a few hours ago
Drooling and imagining warps;
Night is the only thing they’ll know
Morning will be their burp,
But as the night still prevails
And the lavenders’ aroma surrounds
They’ll set their ships to sail
And whisper back what is found.
The silence will never scream,
The night won’t be undone,
Like a good dream or a bad dream
Which can be gunned down.
Two young drops of water
Had just met in the sea,
Each hailing from different rivers.
Let this moment be.
When the fingers are crossed,
Intertwined with the other’s
And the mind is slowly getting lost
Into the teasing of the weather
T
he world shrinks within the walls
That’s where the good moments last
No compliment received at all
Neither any grudges were gnarled too fast.
It is just the ball of luminescent fire
That would burn the darkness around
End the night-love acquired
To places that can never be found.
If the night of love does fall
And the dawn would burn it all,
Would you hear any heart break
Along the morning wave, to wake?
Looking forward to the dawn
The ships leave trail on their own,
And as they go on and as they sail,
Their strong sleep stealthily falls frail.
Their eyes bewildered at the weather.
They beat their heart now, in the veins
With her skin still soft as a feather
The clouds thundered.
It rained.
YOU ARE READING
Transcendence
PoetryHello, there readers! For a quick introduction to my work would suit its subtitle- 'A Collection of Scattered Feelings', I have maintained no fixed mood, so that my dear readers may see beyond a specific feeling, to feel it. The moods vary form sli...
