Yesterdays!

The agony came again as tranquility;
And mourned in the corner of the eyes
Yesterdays approached in a boat of shadows
In the large pond, where the summer moon remained.
Only few memories are left, in the vision of
The mind, to taste the sweetness of bygone days.

Though you are only a mere dream in my slumber;
Why can’t you just come near me?
Each word I write here is for you only.
Can’t you just realize that in your thoughts?
I remember your face, when in the night
I scoop in my hands the moonlight coming
Through my window, and kiss it’s radiance.

What I smell is the fragrance of your sweat,
Or the blossoming jasmine, in the night.
I am not sure!
Who jots your name a thousand times,
With the point of a quill, on the page of my heart?
I don’t know!

Game of the heart…

Playing a game in the squash court,
With rebounding emotions of the heart
As the soft ball, till it bleeds and withers
And the opponent decorating his lips with
A deceptive smile and the gait of a winner,
Walks away and you’re left alone!

The rules were fair, the play a barbarity
Savage words and bitter strokes…
Yet I yielded the whims and fancies of
Outrages vociferations which led to crucification
And vituperations of schizophrenia,
Which I meekly admitted, as if I played a foul game;
As he was my best and unique pal and
I never wanted to lose him forever…

The mind always search in unknown shores and
Far away regions to discern a lost companion,
Missed en-route through your past rebirths..
Every moment the wind writes memoirs on the sand
And wander away, the waves blot it out
The next instant, ruthlessly with a cruel mind.
Calm sometimes, rebellious another time,
Turbulent at times, agitated, and weeping in grief
With suppressed mysteries of desires.
Yet, the fisherman adores its nature
And cling to her bosom, as of his mother.

Every man is an ocean, ever on the lookout in debris
For lost treasures and possessions withered from his heart