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 Mar 2013 Gaurav K
Cali
Ophelia, Ophelia,
voracious daydreamer,
how dare you
upset this delicate orbit.
your hands were the kiln
for my sloppy and misshapen mind,
but that was nothing,
relatively, compared to the way
your eyes reflected lost souls.
my dear, it's a catastrophe.

now when the moon chides me,
and the stars reek of your smile,
I run my hands across
the fronts of empty dresses
that you wore years ago.
Ophelia, Ophelia,
I recall the way your eyes shone
like the peak of madness
and how your shoulder blades
touched in a subtly avian manner.

how simple are the remnants
of your existence, of your melancholia,
I cling to them like a ***** to touch-
and I know they will bring you no closer.
stale shadows haunt my lingering eyes;
where you should be standing
I see only lost time.

Ophelia, Ophelia,
smoldering star in my hindsight,
stone in my chest-
I'm sad to see you go.
 Mar 2013 Gaurav K
Marian
Welcome to Fairyland!
Come dream the hours away,
Then dance with me and the Fairies across the cool sand,
And find the beauty in every day!

Come with me to Fairyland,
Where the Fairies will dance with me and you,
Be sunshine across the warm summer sand;
But I promise your days here will never be blue.

Walk with me to Fairyland,
Where days will never fly,
Where time is not just a grain of sand;
And where dreams and wishes will never die.


*~Marian~
 Mar 2013 Gaurav K
Marian
Psalm 142
 Mar 2013 Gaurav K
Marian
Psalm 142*

I cried unto the Lord with my
voice: with my voice unto the
Lord did I make my supplication.

2 I poured out my complaint
before him; I shewed before him
my trouble.

3 When my spirit was overwhelmed
within me, then thou
knewest my path. In the way
wherein I walked have they privily
laid a snare for me.

4 I looked on *my
right hand,
and behold but there was no man
that would know me: refuge
failed me; no man cared for my
soul.

5 I cried unto thee, O Lord: I
said, Thou art my refuge and my
portion in the land of the living.

6 Attend unto my cry; for I am
brought very low: deliver me from
my persecutors; for they are
stronger than I.

7 Bring my soul out of prison,
that I may praise thy name: the
righteous shall compass me
about; for thou shalt deal bountifully
with me.

— The End —