The whistle blows silently
As the wind pass by
The strong wind, makes me mesmerized
The memory of hers; which fills my empty eyes
The eyes shed tears
The wind wipes it by
The face shows a smile
But the heart inside cries
The wind silently whispers
Shhhhh…  Don’t cry. . .

The lips were sealed
And the words were less
All there was; were the eyes to tell
I closed them too; to escape the truth
A glance at those were suffice for tell
Bowed my head;
At last
For
It’s better not to tell . . .

Steps coming closer
With a much more clearer voice
Road seeming empty
With no end on other side
Still walking forward
With no one on the way
Crisp smiling lips
With a tear on the face
Long standing still
With nowhere to go
A lone walk never ends
With an end that you know . . .

It’s the life we know
Its the life we feel
A book it is
Giving us the feel that; It will never come to an end
But it is a book we don’t know where or when it will end
It can be the next page or the page after that
We can never look over the next page
Until the page we are on has end
The book may be boring but it may have an interesting end
The pages which past by, will never come again
It is the book which always has a sorrow end . . .

Behind the face
Below the lips
A silent smile resides
It never reach out, It never climbs
It stays alive being inside
It flashes for a moment than disappears for a while
Hides in the shadow and dissolves in the dark
When all hopes lost and faith fades out
A silent smile saves us all. . .

Tucked up in a blanket
A night bulb on side
The face all lit up
With a fan staring; right in your eyes
Closing the eyes in an old fashioned way
Every second seems like a long hour day
A glimpse of the light from the curtain across
Seeing your image on the empty wall
A thought of the past and the future collide
An empty walk ends and An empty road arise . . .