The waterfalls may dry,
but my tears can never!
My pen will stop bleeding
But my heart will never!

Take me on a trip,
where we lay on the bare grass
stare at the night sky
talk to the moon
wink at the stars
Take me on a trip
to a piece of land unknown
away from this life
Where we witness
the wars, the stars fight!

Muddy footprints, and the howling moon,
This forest welcomed me,
With the mist cuddling around
and the silence drumming noises

Seeking my way, reached that log,
deforested! Missing it's fruit!

This log, I sat on,
and brushed my bruises and wounds
While I was covering
unknown routes

This log, broken and sad
proved it to me
that heartbroken ones,
missing their fruits,
once the parts of them,
are the most helpful
and the only who wipe our tears
in this evil, unknown world

Golden grains, meet the blues
drowning in the roaring waves,
They feel the enchantment
inside the ocean air!
The black rocks, rest besides
the enigmatic coast
whilst the water waves
hug, cuddle and boast
She sits on those mouldy log
thrown ages ago,
breathing the familiar breeze,
as the feelings inside grow!
As far as she could see
this ocean was once
the puddle of tears rolled
This ocean contained memories
and the tears of happiness and sorrows
this coast was where the people came
and posted their heavy heart
as their grief and pains
were swallowed by this pool
and in return bestowed, vivid rains!

This is not a pool, nor an ocean
It's the tears of lonely
who once walked by,
and made a selfless friend!

The little ones, visit us every day
Wiping off the golden rays,

When the supper is served hot
and the grannies rock the cots,
the children return home
silently tiptoe the little gnomes
Its when the grandpas lit their cigars
and silence roams in parks and bazaars
the little ones hop and climb
painting skies, black and fine
they rub off the remains of the sun
and cool off, all its burns
they plaster the yellow, crescent crust
cleaning off yesterday's dust!
Next they glitter the fireflies
Perfectly golden, neat and nice
The littlest one, of them all,
itches, galls and squalls
Gifting us a desired sneeze
Sprinkling over the stars on all!
The stars twist, blink and wink
And beautiful lullabies they sing!

On the old oak tree
Sits a mother with her child
Giving her some lessons
carried from generations!
Her voice so hoarse and quiet
like the black night sky,
"Listen well dear!"
The mother sighed
"Silence is the wisest thing,
Its with you when no one else is,
silence itself is an answer,
to all those fools, who roam around!
Keep quiet, and you'll see,
the light in miracles!
The less you speak,
the more you observe,
and the more you observe,
the more wisdom you acquire,
the more you get to know, about the faces around here,
sit on this old oak tree, and observe
how faces, hide faces!'