Wednesday, 22 May 2013


The crack in my Vision
Saw its half burned face
A snap of my faded eyes?
Or, a fissure in tainted glass
It was there, and
Then it was gone
It would have sworn
On my dull thoughts
Dry Whisper echoed
As if it never existed
And, hummed sharp—
“All is now wasted”
Holding my hand loosely
Drew shapes on my palm
It gave me tingling then,
And now I set to qualm
Still have my open hands
Fingers warped to hold,
The invisible—the intangible 
Evening winds flowing past the town
Mourn the bent hooves of rusted gate
Gate guarding the stained glass walls
Friend, then lover and now a stranger
Carrying a fragile foliage of questions
What, when, where, whom—Oh, Alas! 


  1. yaar !!! ur words are simply toooo good!!!

    1. Lolz...Thanks a lot Sudhanshu....striving to make them best..wish me luck :)

  2. Its strange how circumstances, and people change ... it hurts us at times, but then again, what's a smile without its share of tears?

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  4. sorry i missed this somehow the other day...i find this verse very interesting...and wonder if i have not interpretted it me to catch that glimpse of the scarred face/ to pair it with stained glass which is broken glass yet still beautiful...i like that...because things happen but we have a choice if we let it define us...of those questions you end on..

    1. You can never get it wrong Brian..least expected ...yes, we have a choice and we end up choosing the one easily accessible...but question, they never end...they haunt us till eternity.,don't they?

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