Enthralled by the whispers of the night,
Deluged by a myriad forlorn dreams.
Like rain that promptly meets the ground,
Show again the smile of transience.

All that's beautiful cannot stay,
The fading spring complains of fall.
Like spinning tomes, the leaves fall away,
Like a painting the clouds shall recall.

Life's last flight, dance sweetly in the air.
Life's last cry, sees through me 'till the end.
Hold my hand as we pass this divine,
Cruel borders of life and death.

Reminded of the night's impermanence,
As I gaze at the misty, translucent moon.
That starry night won't ever be the same,
So for whom am I waiting in the wind?

All that's beautiful cannot stay,
The fading spring complains of fall.
Like spinning tomes, the leaves fall away,
Like a painting the clouds shall recall.

Life's last flight, dance sweetly in the air.
Life's last cry, sees through me 'till the end.
Hold my hand as we pass this divine,
Cruel borders of life and death.

Today was bracelets on wrists
And sugar bread twists
And rolled eyes
And white lies

It was the sound of the phone
Ringing off the line
And pen-ink shine
And clinking dimes

Today the sun shone brighter
Than the last
The clouds passed
And I laughed
At feeling trapped

Behind such pleasant windows

Without the vision, people are rarely reminiscent
Of what they have been looking for,
And fall into a deep torpor.
Maybe it's this slumber that makes them realize,
All that they wanted to be was right there
In front of their own eyes.
With such strong desires held in her soul,
A fire was ignited in her heart
A rustling of leaves somewhere in the woods,
Where she sat somewhere along the brook
Pondering to herself,
Is happiness all I seek?
Or maybe it is just one of life's very old tricks
And it reeks.
With such a heavy heart
She walks alone into the woods,
Contemplating whether life is something
She ever understood.

My body is well,
the mind dwells,
yet the heart is swelled.

The sky is long, the road is far, wind and snow blow straight.
Dangling white specks of snow unfolded gracefully,
Yet home is naught when the dust flutters.
Just like a fishing boat in the rain,
Destination is just another
rest-stop.

Today I listened to our songs
it felt like touching the heartbeat
of my friends from a distance

My mister,
Through bliss and hurt don't we miss her?
Her hair- silky mist
Her eyes- dreary mission wishes
her tears, it seemed, had fallen before the march,
before this hardship.
You carried that torch forever
No one cared but her.
And now such is blurred earth
Until you've become snuffed, wouldn't you be glad to be set fire to?
Starry eyes agaze to a blaze of new desire too
Much higher
High enough.