The Shadow

Whose shadow is this that never leaves
Even when there’s no light to see?
Whose shadow? Definitely not mine
For the sun’s still buried in the sea.

Whose shadow holds me down when I see them
Roaming free, stalking their next prey,
Forcing me to look around, and at last
Leaving nothing for me to say?

This shadow, never far away from me
Feels like the weight, I can’t break free.
But whose shadow? Not mine for sure
For the sun’s still buried in the sea.

Whose shadow, never far away from me
Pulls me back in the slimy cage?
Not mine and it can never be
For the sun’s still buried in the sea
And seems it will stay buried forever in the sea.

Advertisements

Love Song Of The Night

And then she held these calloused hands
While walking down the path that never ends.
She laid a kiss and whispered her secrets
To the flowing wind. But the words
Were lost behind the rustling dark leaves.
Dim shadows all around. The trees,
Proud while each having a tale of its own,
Painting a ladder on the road.
The prairies below, so long as the moon
Was bare from one lonely cloud,
Looked silver and green while the soft bluish light
Rippled on the grass, like gentle waves.
The violet flowers slept in their cradles
That swayed along. The night heavy
With the strong aura of some wilder bloom.
But then she raised her face and looked at those
Faraway eyes to see, however hard
She might have tried to break loose, she could go
Nowhere else. Fate would send her reeling back
To this ancient eerie path, unbound and free.

Sunshine

Sunshine, yellow and white plays hide and seek
With the woolly clouds and the heat is on.
Beads of sweat merging in trickles
Which once get dried would form these ugly crusts.

Then when the clouds are on their winning row
The sky turns gray. The drunkard wind
Smelling heavy with the odor of rain
Flows in drunken gusts with fogs of flying dust.

But the dust soon settles down, for the Sun
Takes again the upper-hand
Piercing the clouds with his sweltering flame
Which ripples on the shiny particles
Of sand. The world looks bright once more
With shadows a bit longer than before.

The Distant Stars

When the night is as silent as the dead
And the pack of astray dogs, silent too
You’ll hear them whispering, the distant stars,

When the night is as grim as death,
The waning moon too thin to see
You can find them twinkling in pure delight.

Far below, the spent rain-clouds drift apart,
The world still damp from their load and crickets
Have gone to sleep, tired from their chorusing
The ancient post-rain song, like us.

And soon like vapor rising from the earth
The world shall wake up too and start
Its daily chore. An ever growing world
Soon shall grow yet older, another day.

Six Strings

Like the soul without a face, when the time
Is dark and sleepless, guitar too can cry.
Then each string tells a tale, each tale
Is sweeter than the one that has gone by.

There is this aloof pair of deep blue eyes
From wounded feelings turning deeper
Above another that’s forever sad
For in place of the heart, scars throb within.

Then there is one lonely like the sky
A whiff below the glowing happy stars
But their nomad life is too high to live
So it falls for the wounds below…

Like the soul without a face, when the time
Is dark and sleepless, guitar too can cry
And each string tells a tale, each tale
Is sweeter than the one that has gone by.