Aberration

To be hated by the blue eyes!
And to die in its wrath.
To be loved by the red lips!
And to entice my soul..

Gaze from behind the door
Fire....i saw it.

Blaze me to the grey and suckle my dreams.
For they are meant to be nothin but a lonely night's fantasies.

Lights flashing..indeed i see those.
Aberration....life is not a tragedy.
Greed and pride gelled to the flow..

To be hated by the blue eyes;
And to live in its hopes.

Enchanted

Mist wiped to gleaming Light..
For it was a winter night!

And the wind was sailing back..
For the mind was striding forth...
Along the Trees,Rocks and Earth!
Trough the carpet of clouds.

I listened to the eyes,
And its song without a voice
Meaning it conveyed was silence..

Echoes of Trumphets in my Mind;
Waning... waning... into that Mist!

THE ENGLISH CASTLE

Touching the coldness of the walls with my face

I saw the life of an English Castle in my dreams

Thousand years of existance

Shadows of men born,fought and died, reflected

The sunbeams to penetrate its core

But still the cold remains...seeking,

Truths for battles fought

Without reasons,beliefs but passions

To feed the burning madness of minds

Tales of glory and bravery

A sigh to remember the chained souls...

Did freeze my self to its feel

Of the English Castle that never exists !!

"A Kiss"

The lips met,
And parted
Met again to stick,
Together in Cuddle.
Shared the warmth,
Of the bite,soft soft.
The lips met
Again and again..
Her breathe
And its fragrance;
To take,
Me to the world
Of revival,in
Half heaven;Where
The eyes did close,
Tight tight.

A Kiss !

Life’s Colors…

Colors to portray hours
Of the Sojourn, life.

Innocence of morning Mist,
Pink was the tone over White
Like a child, a butterfly.

Red, to the smelting youth,
Smeared like a flame
Summits to conquer, Passions
And the luring Sylphs.

Brown as an Eagle’s beak
Merits of middle age
Sharp and Strong.



Dawdled the dusk
In Grey so vivid
Gleaming end; To Death.

Hours portrayed in Colors…

The Voice Of Desire

Feeling beyond the soul's secret
Fathom it,experience it.
Taste like a drop,from the Honey-Hive;
Tittering mind and tipple to me,
Is that drop in its subtle form.
Longing for that spell
Where emotion meets emotions.
Tranquil mind yet unquenched
Tickle it and dance to its tunes
Along the desolate valleys.
Lost to that feel
Until wideopen are those heavenly doors....

"The Occult Within Me”

Clinching to the voice of my self
Burned out ashes disappeared;

Floated in vacuum and glided
Until the dark fumes glared.

Naive Soul salvated
In the very end of a moribund mind

Hovels of secluded emotions
Outlived its own master

Fireworks of occult
In me who was my Self...