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Sun's sudden madness scorched the  lovely buds,
who killed my children, cry the flowering plants,
why the climate changes, love gets obliterated,
darkness prowls at noon, who has to be blamed?
*who kills the goodness, gives evil such fillip?
don't ask, "For whom the bell tolls?"
look within, do something .
Through the silence in a lonely place,
Your whispers promised, leaving a trail.
Followed the melody, a place where I belong,
A secret untold, a silent song.
The euphoria danced with my soul,
Your eyes enchanted the time to a hold.
Destiny's play with the grace of life,
Honest truth with a hint of lies.
Agony, a thief, soul it steals,
Also the spirit, peaceful nights and dreams.
Found myself nowhere to be found,
All the melody, only silence sounds.
Tears shed for another goodbye, too late,
The end of a beginning, the beginning of another wait.
While sitting in a quiet room
My thoughts become so loud
The voices stuck inside my head
Somehow become a crowd

There's no such thing as silence
It's something we can't find
An empty space is just a myth
The noise is in our mind

Whenever you think you're all alone
A memory is by your side
It's something we cannot control
No matter how hard we've tried

Even when we're fast asleep
A dream will share its voice
Hidden things our minds must say
And still we have no choice

Sit for just a minute or two
To see if you resist
Your mind will betray your quiet time
For silence doesn't exist
 Dec 2012 Ashmita Agrahari
Mr E
I do not cry for the dead
I keep my thoughts inside my head
They are gone
The worms are fed
The grass grows greener
No tear is shed
The wind still blows
The sun still shows
And I hate myself
And my cursed heart of lead
A heart that does not ever cry
Not even for the dead
A smile
resembles a flower
sometimes, drawn on a paper,
or on a memory wall.Freshly painted.
Imagine me sitting
limbs akimbo, easy, relaxed,
free from all kinds of travel anxiety,
looking high,
at the far end of the transit lounge,
smiling,
looking back at a memory
of a girl/ incident/landscape
I now don't exactly remember,
when,
a girl, sitting across me
in a sort of airport fatigue
looking unreasonably perplexed,
asked, "Are you smiling at me?"
Was I? If only she was my memory!
She wasn't smiling, I noticed.
Can it be true? Is there really a man as perfect as the moon?
A man who is there for you every night to light up your face and dreams
Who if far away but still gives you strength.
Always looking down at you letting you see which road to take,
He might not hold you when you cry but you can still feel his warmth
He holds your secrets, fears and keeps you heart safe.
Leaving in the morning but coming every night, not letting you spend them alone
Can it be true? Is there really a man as perfect as the moon?
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