Light

The stars dazzle in my eyes,

My skin, an abode of fireflies,

The moonlight is my cloak,

I am not a bird with broken wings,

When in darkness,

A light shines from within.

The demons won’t budge,

My angels too, are strong,

Even if the sun doesn’t rise,

And the storms won’t calm down,

When in darkness,

A light will always shine from within.

Advertisements

Trace

I have waited
long enough
to be loved by
somebody else.

Someone who was
a picture in my dreams,
caressing my tender back,

entwined hands,
whispering softly, with
a mint-like breath.

I failed to realise
that dreams are made
of glass, that break
taking your heart away
to an isolated place.

What I see now, is
not a picture but
shadow that’s fading.
like the moon wanes
until one day when it
finally disappears
into the pitch-black sky.

And this shadow will
also disappears one day,
without leaving a trace.

Exuberance

As the sun sank down the horizon, the sky was spanned with multi-colours of orange and red. The clouds kept floating away from me, as if it’s their time to go home too.

A wave of balmy air brushed past my face, and all the bad memories of day just faded away. The dazzling light of the day, made way for a starry night. I stood below the blue-black sky oggling at the sheer brilliance of the full moon.

I’d never felt so positive ever in my life, like I did at that moment. The day had bought me dismality and gloominess but the night made it all right. I felt my feet dangling in the air and I was flying. Flying higher and higher.

The Shooting star

Velvety black sky,

Illuminated by the luminous white moon,

Millions of stars ornated the cloudless canopy, embellishing it more.

Down there, I sat in silence,

Profusely crying for someone,

Who was once, mine

The brightness of the night,

Seemed like a curse to me, on my fate.

Just then, I spotted a shooting star,

Followed by its long shiny trail,

Bidding goodbye to the farm,

Where it had always stayed.

Up there, it was still radiant.

The moon didn’t lose its glow and the stars continued to beam

I chided at the thought of the sky, for not crying

Over losing of one of its precious gem.

Have the sky, moon and stars perfectly learned the art of ‘to let go’?

Have they, really?