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Silence - O', Even the silence has got something to say
in words of winds blown off Northern array
At first, it makes heart free from all worries,
but the next moment -
Everything seems to be burnt out into broken-furries

The diamond's costless so all spirits,
but when it comes to poor-faith,
Even the "love" goes down into shattered pieces

Echoes On Nights - O' the echoes of such restless ashes
make some noise across the tight-lipped room
And, the silence has got much to bleed,
When the castles of night go disappeared by the doom

With time, as usual, beautiful morn knocks at the door
The heart gets trapped inside the loop,
Melodious beats of its phase go bounced up ov'r the floor
& scream, O' the life's nothiing, but an empty cup of cold-soup.
Feb - 24 - 2015!
Tuesday Night. Seemed like - 'Twilight'. Sounds interesting!
Every night,
before I hit the hay,
before I fall into a deep slumber
nestled in the warmth
of my big comfy bed,
I count my fingers and my toes,
and I have them all,
scarred,
but fully intact.

I guess
there's no such thing
as heroes anymore.
They are only legends
we think about.

I know this
to be true,
Just ask my digits
seeking release.

Good night.
Sweet dreams.
She cuckoos & swags across the heart
for stealing the breath off its beat,
I enjoy listening to her voices
whispering from somewhere outta Georgia street

William Shakespeare did speak,
"In delay there lies no plenty,----
Then come kiss me, sweety-n-twenty"

So I do write,
"Her devotional love makes the oceans restive,---
Even a breath of her ice crystals muse makes my heart festive"


And, winds blow
Her love arrives to my way,
Waves starting to flow
in one-direction where there's no sun-ray


With some caramel hues of her nocturnal love,
I inhale her throughout the night
Melancholy clouds burst out, though No Mistreat,
The echoes of rain start whispering around me,
&, along such a mist, she cuckoos & swags across the heart with naked feet.
The first title of the write was "Her Bare Feet -  One Breath". IInd Title was "The Epiphany Of Her Love. Well, then I modify the write a wee bit more and come up with the current title.

Ps. Today I learn one thing that`s... "Editing" is way hard than "Writing". It even changes the whole concept of 'Writing'. So one needs to be much focused when it`s a matter of 'Editing'.
Feb.20.2015!
 Mar 2015 My name is a lie
B
~
 Mar 2015 My name is a lie
B
~
I
Always
Wondered
Why
People
Consider
Me
A
Mystery
But
Then
I
Rea­lized
That
I
Don't
Even
Understand
Myself*

B.S.
Let me tell you about an adventure of my mind
So calm and simple was she
Tremendously smart and immensely beautiful
I muse almost and always on how the elements were cherry-picked and made into such a wonderful whole
A genius in the embodiment of one of us
An angel in the wrong place but at the right time
Some kind of a mortal immortal
It was a decision to approach her
Now. No, maybe later. Better still never.
She made me for at least a moment have one wish in life
A wish in gold for the price of a bow
Oh Cupid look how you made me seem
So stupid, but yet for serendipity sake.
I brood on her thoughts in my mind more than I do myself
After my muse I am left drained of every modicum of vocabulary
Except one
Amazing.
I want to climb up onto your arms
And hang from your limbs
Until I am out of breathe and restless.
Let me embrace freedom,
By taking this to new heights,
As I seek new adventure among you

I want to be the bee that delves into your bark
And waits to draw nectar from you.
I want to be the black widow
Which crawls along you, sheltering its web among you.

I want to be the bird that perches itself
On your branches, after its quest for refuge.
I want to be the squirrel that travels
Up and down your neck, searching for its secret hideaway.

I want to be the roots that stem from you,
That cultivate growth and maintain your balance among the land.

I don't care what I'd have to be or where I'd gave to go.
I just know,
I find peace and comfort
Each time time I dream about secret pleasures of my weeping willow.
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