Monday, December 10, 2012

Something

No verse to touch, No prose to hold
My part succumbs in the play
No days to feel, no nights to hurt
Whisk all my prayers away

On a black square I stand
With a white beside me
The truth I will push away
And the lie will hide me

Drowned to death and still awake
To keep one promise forlorn
Rise to hold the morning's throne
A million times reborn

When enough cold will seep through
The warmth will return
And smoldering hopes burst into flames
To breathe again and burn

Today the song is beautiful
Tomorrow it would sleep
To gift a smiling moment
Your's forever to keep

One verse to touch, One Prose to hold
To all the parts I play
Unwritten still the author's work
And moulded in wet clay.





7 comments:

  1. This was so beautifully written ... the words flowed on smoothly ... well conceived.

    This is my first visit to your blog and I love the look and content of it. Following you now :-)

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    1. Thanks a lot GS.. I appreciate your comment.. :)

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  2. How very beautiful :) Simple, smooth and well conceived, like GS says. Especially liked the penultimate verse, which tells us just to dream. Loved it.

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    1. Thank you so much Leo.. its a poor attempt though.. :)

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  3. Beautiful indeed. The simplicity of prose is amazing and at the same time it has the vibe to touch the chord somewhere.

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    1. I'm glad you liked it.. thank you. :)

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  4. simple and way tooo awsm....lovd it..

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