We were strangers among the stampeding crowd,
But fate has played us along;
As our heartbeat synchronizes out loud,
Singing the story of a broken song.

Our sun shines in the East,
but never dwindle on the West-
this strange feeling of bliss,
drifting in the chamber of my chest.

Daffodils dance in the scorching daylight,
As the breeze blows gently-
Oblivious to the inevitable flight,
Of an encumbering drizzly night.

Aurora borealis perforates the lone darkness,
Swirling in the starless sky of the North-
The way you eliminated my sadness,
And brings me comfort and madness.

The river cascading in an endless stream,
Splashing a cold brackish water-
These tears of misery and grim,
I will forever endure in my dream.

The moon is high as the tower,
The night as silent as the elm street-
Misery has once again devour,
the little joy turns bittersweet and sour.

I love and love and love unconditionally,
But the pain is searing unbearably;
I looked at the stars and heaven,
And realized we were strangers again.

I have sought many of the past lives,
Witnessed ages of the Earth’s passerby;
From when I was a little sapling,
Until vines and twigs turned wrinkling-
I am a linden tree and this is the story,
I’d tell in the form of poetry.

Many and many a year ago,
When mountains ceaselessly echo
And the birds chirped harmoniously,
Zephyr mutters silence and serenity;
Clouds clover sky in gleaming azure,
Meadow teeming with verdant grandeur.

The sound of the raging sea wave
Reverberates through the mighty cave;
Sun-kissed sand wallow all day,
Pristine and bright as the sun’s ray;
In the boggy soil I stand firm,
Watching the pendulous vine squirm.

Butterflies fluttering in great splendor,
Hovering and sipping nectars galore;
Screeching seagulls can be heard-
From a distant they form herd;
A group of mackerel rapidly swim,
Dwelling into the never-ending stream.

Those were the days when green
is all there is to be seen;
Before the rise of the civilization,
When humans value appreciation.

Blazing red lights swallowed,
Then ashes and dust followed;
Streams and riverbanks silently cry,
As fishes and clams gradually die;
Birds started singing in sorrow-
The broken melody of tomorrow.

This is the story that I’d be telling-
To my children and their sapling;
I am a linden tree, blessed and forsaken,
Whose memories and land they’ve taken.

You used to be my everything,
now you ain’t even anything.
I used to cry before I fell asleep,
but those memories already slipped.

Like a dandelion in the fall of Spring,
beauty and joy are all they bring;
But when the wind starts to blow,
one by one they’d drift in a row.

When I saw you the other day,
millions of words I wanna say.
But you always left me hanging-
and act like I am nothing.

Just like a clock ticking the opposite,
as the pain creates a huge slit;
Searing this vulnerable heart,
and tearing my love apart.

I remember the first day we met,
clueless as to how you set-
In my meticulous eyes and ego,
your presence I can never let go.

The day you painted a smile-
the thing I’ve missed for a while;
Mending these broken pieces,
as memory of my past ceases.

I needed you in my daily dose,
though we were never close;
A glimpse of you completes me,
like the rhyming of this poetry.

Who would have thought I’d fall,
for someone I can never call-
“My love”, “my other half” or “mine”?
Love, after all, is indeed blind!

We were taught to return a favor,
to show respect and good behavior;
But even if your love is overdue,
I’d always fall for someone like you.

In my orchard full of dazzling green,
you are that special tangerine-
so special that I can never pick,
when I harvest you’re unripe and sick.

Many tears have been wasted,
pains and misery I’ve tasted;
All for one person I always admire,
from afar I can never acquire.