You have imprinted all your memories here,
And now you do not have to at all fear.

You just tell me what and I will not just hear,
With all my soul I will always strive to listen.

You look beautiful in the night lamp dear,
For all the beads of your sweat will glisten.

You look gorgeous with those pearls there,
From your forehead they all are descended.

You appear youthful with those curls here,
Around your ears they all are so nicely coiled.

You appear deadly with those curvy eyes,
Lucky me I'll cherish their charms for lifelong.

You look fabulous with your lips quivering,
Even in my dreams I have not been luckier.

There’s a key
to open the lock
of the door
that leads to
the alley
hidden from
everyone’s view
old buildings
graying facades
history peeling off
exposing
the strong walls
not many
have walked
this alley
for many centuries
forlorn and tired
history sleeps
memories sigh
waiting to
be heard
the last footstep
that reverberated
into oblivion
lost glory
passionate dwellers
abandoned
for centuries
stripped off
the lights
and long forgotten
switching off
the town’s existence
now only
if one had the key
to walk down
the forgotten alley
history would wake up
to narrate
so many stories
put under
a long spell
an effort to
wipe away its existence
but it soul
still lives
and the key shall be found
to the lucky one
walking amidst history
transported back
to the past
to feel the essence
of this unnamed place
almost wiped
away by time

The humble diary
Holds the words
Usually not revealed
To the world
Lines, filled with
Deepest desires
Inexplicably, not uttered
But freely flows
Without inhibitions
Every drop of ink
Is the messenger
Carrying the messages
Encrypted for secrecy
A part of your world
Comes alive
Between the pages
Each day
Offered a blank page
New anecdote
Chronicled eagerly
Before the words
Fade away from memory
Jogging along the lines
Of the diary
The pen gives you a lease
To express
Some feelings and desires
Not audible to anyone
But finds safe haven
Between the pages
Of the humble diary