come walk by me...

Come walk by me,
In the miasma of ambiguity
enveloping the shores

Come walk by me,
In the obscurity of the night
bleached by moonlight

Come walk by me,
In the resonance of splashes
of the incensed waves

Come walk by me,
And let the night witness
our fading footprints

Come walk by me
on the sands of life,
leaving the reminiscence
of our existence
to be washed away
by the tides of time...

behind the mask..

Vicious waves crash along the shoreline of my life 

zephyr turns into nor'easter

an aching blizzard congeals my heart 

I lived so far in the miasma of my illusions

a figment of my imagination

a fantasy

I thought

I kept telling myself

I made myself believe 

I struggled

besieged

deceived by my own devise

I fell

appalling

fathomless pit of agony

I dreaded 

visions

dreams twirling into nightmare

I concealed

notes

lyrics of my love

I wished 

relentlessly

inexorably to have her in my life

another sleepless night...

Voices in the ears,

words loose their meaning,

and fail to strike a chord

in the heart.

The head rests on the pillow

in the hour of darkness.

Dreams become remote

as eyes accustom themselves

the the weight of 

insignificant thoughts,

devising means

to foster stupor.

Constantly being consumed

by the void,

the soul relentlessly aches

to secede from the body,

and abandon the materialistic.

Another sleepless night...

your smile...

the way you smile
looks like flowers all the while
and it reminds me of the spring
and of the joys it brings
and like the coulds fly
over the mountain high
as if my dreams come true
when i close my eyes
and like a morning breeze
that feels so good
and like a soft wind
that flows in the woods
and like a beautiful sunrise
and a wonderful sunset
and like a diamond's shine
and like the colour of garmet
and like inthe midst of a desert
a lake to see
your smile is what
it means to me...

Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone stand in the desert.
Near them on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear: My name is Ozymandias,
King of Kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains.
Round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
-Shelley, Percy Bysshe