Wandering clouds, sky never getting clear.
Today it lies still, speaking no words of pretence,
In the lull of night, reflecting silence.
Gleaming in the summer sands, the glass of memory,
Brittle. Volatile. Recounting a nameless story.
Playing with yesterday when today was flying by,
Smell of her hair, memories circled near by.
I cannot see what would come, but what had gone.
Lost in translation the dreams; life of love tone.
Should I take a step back? To find you once again?
Would you hold hand once more? Would you dance with me again?
7 comments:
I cannot see what would come, but what had gone.
Lost in translation the dreams; life of love tone.
Should I take a step back? To find you once again?
Would you hold hand once more? Would you dance with me again?
This stanza captures that anguish, the uncertainty so darned well!
Piquant and poignant, this one! And as lovely as ever!
nice.
very nice.
new to your blog.
liked.
The first line did some magic !!
Words are too tempting to be read jst once..
'I cannot see what would come, but what had gone.'
liked this line quite a bit.. but more than anything, liked the accompanying pic...
i loved the idea of the post...
and the ending made me remember careless whisper by george michael
smell of her hair...wow!!
poignant and very very tangible n tender too!! loved this one prabhu!! :)
i love de images you so very well create!!
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