A distant gulmohar in full bloom calls the helpless insomniac bird to rest on it's ****** blossom,a miraculous tree with no roots,sprouting out of the ocean so vast,sky ahead without visible end,yet flies the bird to the horizon.
Why do you fly therewards?I ask,says the humble bird to me,this 'i' is only a part of the whole me,a flock riveting with love and life itself,I go to me.
My human tongue tells the bird,a certain end awaits his fall.says the ethereal being to me,I know not what may befall,but I hear sweet voice of one I seek and that have I made my call.

All within me, I can make alright.
A little further beyond I can try.
Just an inch away,I can hope.
When hopeless,I can despair.
I will, till I can for despair I do not serve.

Your image haunts my night,an image as clear  as the light of the sun,
An emotional trance I manufacture,trying to wipe that light off my vision.
A different inspiration I seek to invoke
denegrates it,back to you.
You rule my darkness,a realm black with your contours.
I see your face In different phases,of what you were and how you became,
Your body beneath the earth now,
At rest in the arms of nature,
Which cuddles you in your deep slumber,
Conspiring,hiding and hoping what best of you to bring back.
A green grass waving gently in the love of the breeze or the beautiful wild flowers of the mountain staring at the sun.
Now the day breaks and slowly the sun rises high up in sky,
the azure above humbles my eye.