The Night Did Not Speak...

-

The night did not speak,

But something in the darkness knew my name…

Was it, the faint whisper of my curtains

Flirting with the distant winds, 

Like a ballerina dancing with her lover...

To the trembling, mischievious beats of my heart??

Was it, her giggles, as the winds from the sea teased her...

Bringing her stories of beautiful mermaids playing in the waves,

Or, promising her pearl necklaces, from the unfathomed depths of the oceans...

Just like, someone had promised his heart to me???

Was it, the scent of the distant jasmines and plumerias,

Enticing me to dance with the fireflies

To the songs of the rustling leaves...

Like, I was a teenager, enamored over her first love??

Did they tempt me, to tiptoe into the dreams of my beloved,

Soundly asleep, in some distant horizon,

Blissfully unaware of the butterflies fluttering within my heart,

Stealing my sleep,

And painting dreams in my sleepless eyes??

Was it, just the moon, calling me out,

Like a girl calling another,

To share secrets, that nobody knew??

To laugh, 

And to talk of those ephemeral moments of stolen glances and rosy blushes...

And the thousand unspoken words behind??

To adorn me, like the Queen of the night...

Like a bride, awaiting the Love of her Life...

Like a princess, looking out for her knight...

With the stars, and her veil of golden light??

The night did not speak,

But something in the darkness knew my name...

Something in the darkness knew, that I was smitten,

Something knew, that I had lost my sleep....



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Regrets...

-
  “Life, my dear, is too short to regret…” The distant familiar voice echoed from the hollows of the intensive care unit, amidst the constant beeping of the machines that were supposed to keep me alive. I sighed….how futile everything seemed, now, that I was on the threshold of life and death. The wires held on to my fingers and wrists…like they could keep me tied to this place. I knew…my moment had arrived. I had always wondered how death feels like…how my last moments would be…and yet, in my last few moments, all I was left with…was regret. I wished…for one last time, to live the Life I had been blessed with…….and this time, I wanted to live, to die without regrets. What if……..I had the courage to speak out??? What if…..for once I had listened to myself??? What if……. The doctor’s warm touch over my left hand broke my reverie. Did he look hopeful about me???...could I find one last chance to live???...could death evade me for this one time, only to let me live and set things...
Read more

My Own Meraki...

-
Running through the maze of Life Relentlessly chasing mirages Entangled, I choked, in silence Like a spider caught in its own web.  My exhausted soul craved to rest Somewhere, beside the boulevards of broken dreams. Where the oaks still played with the autumn breeze And dandelions whispered unspoken promises, Where the mosses were still green with life And the birds created their own songs... Lost, as I was, in the lanes of my own life My heart craved to find back The missing pieces of myself, Long lost....long forgotten.... The parts of my soul that I had long hidden, Behind all the smiles And all the scars. The 'myself' that I was,  That I longed to meet again After all the wars... The tears... The blood... My heart longed again, to be a poem, Amidst the cacophony and chaos That sucks me from within. I longed to be my favourite song Again....after all these days. Weary of wearing my wounds with pride, My heart craved to rest, if only for a while, Within the depths of myself,...
Read more

As The Clock Strikes Three...

-
The darkness of the night Transcends onto my eyelids... Kissing my tears, Little by little. As the summer zephyr carries the lullabies of the distant stars Into the loneliness of my bedroom My exhausted soul drowns into the unknown depths of forgotten dreams That shimmer like fireflies, Far away......near the horizon..... Melting slowly into the pristine moonlight. I sigh, as the monotonous ticking of the wall clock remind me, That I am already running late, chasing them And a myriad of thoughts fill my heavy mind That reeks of nostalgia... The old smell of ink stains and cotton candies Of dried roses and burnt pages... Of the days, that 'could have' been different, The people, who 'could have' stayed.. The things, that 'could have' gone right. Those millions of 'what if's sting my soul And I lay awake, staring through the open window Far away into the horizons.... From where, there is no return. Where, those colours have vanished to conceive this black....
Read more