there is no song which time could sing
no chords of reason memories string
and though our moments bittersweet
could gnargled **** amusingly..

to kiss the knives in dark of nights
that cut us up in wrongs and rights
carve us into plainer shapes
homely, drier, commonplace..
remember each and every stance
by whims and fancies or by chance,
what drives us part is neither stars
or vague and placid fate of ours
in solace ; peace amid the pain
and spirits worming in embrace
what does soar high in tops of trees
in flash of silent tranquil breeze

through greens of promised merriment
while branching arms in wonders spread
lets close our eyes and find the rhyme
but not in stars, in heart this time.