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Mar 2014
With folded wings,
I rush to meet the horizon,
The kiss of a ****** sunset,
In the arms of a cold grey sea,
Deep in her winter embrace,
I feel her stone cold heart.
It beats still.
There is the warmth of fiery blood,
Deep inside the icy cave,
Beating, beating still.
Let me whisper in your ear,
The words of the wolf,
That cries alone on a hill far away,
Waiting for his lover to rise,
Waiting for her to sing to him,
The lady of the moon,
Separated by dawn,
United at dusk,
Feel the pain in his heart,
Hear it echo in the silence
Of the sea at night,
When dreams are dreamt with open eyes,
She will call upon the waves,
That gently caress the sands of time.
On intoxicated hills,
Silently he waits,
While she sings to the seas,
While she sings the clouds to sleep,
For her grey eyes to turn to his,
But the clouds grow jealous of their love,
Thunder and lightning light up the night,
The storm embraces the sea in it's *****,
And her song can reach him no more,
There's only the roaring waves and the screaming thunder,
And struck by a million volts,
He smiles through the clouds at her,
But her eyes are turned away into the abyss,
And with one last breath,
He cries out to her,
As the lights go dim,
And the noise grows silent,
Silent and still,
She hides under the veil of the cold grey sea,
And in this cage of regrets,
I feel her stone cold heart,
Beating, beating still.
Maharshi Bhattacharya
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