What you did not get,
was found at the bottom of sea.
Was it due to dance of swans?

You held me tight,
when the rains stopped.
A moon kissedspot still burns.

An intimate wound of
hard life, was not given by you? Then
who had kissed me in quiet departure?

It was extraordinaire.
You were always living with delicate
flowers surrounded by stings.

There were stigmas
without styles and hummingbirds
standing in air made me cry.

A colourful sparrow sits
on the sill of window to deliver
a message, garden was no more.

There was something
wrong. Yet I had not come
to my home. Trust was eroding.

Moon comes under fire.
Maskless he was stealing beauty
of earth, in freezing dark.

I had no ambition left.
Even touching the truth of
three layered lies of love.

There was something
wrong. Yet I had not come
to my home. Trust was eroding.

Moon comes under fire.
Maskless he was stealing beauty
of earth, in freezing dark.

I had no ambition left.
Even touching the truth of
three layered lies of love.

Two kisses for a golden
lie. Don't manipulate the shelter.
Moon will take rest in my poems.

Song of sparrow has
died. I am bewildered. From where
I start writing glory of sunrise.

My each nerve trembles
when I gather the dried jasmines,
you dropped telling goodbye.

Are you ok? When
the moon rises on sea, I become
worried about the blue butterflies.

The Morning Glory always
inspires me, in her swaying to
welcome the beautiful dawn.

And when your sleep
goes, you start reciting shlokas
with smoke and sparks.

Your mercy was very
little O god, for equal-halves.
Nobody was perfect.

Alive and kicking,
yet harmless. The moons were
alone in togetherness.

You always lied- How
deep was your pain, when sun
was rising without light?