Thursday, April 14, 2011


An incessant, deathless bridge, writing,
sculpturing stories.
Some forbidden paths, some thirsty streams,
Some half grown springs, some winter dreams,
A mild thread weaving me,
twining us, on the canvas, a myriad. 
Question it, for it embraced the answers,
deep and hollow,
some jaded reflections and many divine promises.
The marbled ignorance can’t fade its music,
No dark can seduce its ravings,
Fall down in the lap,
Indulge in the fountain and flow,
Let go.

When you meet, meet in the eyes,
Incense the time and run your scent, see,
It moulds the tale,
It heels the pain,
Slithering on the wry, homage to fearless,
erasing velvet lies, drying wrath vines.
Sorrows escaped out, vanished,
Let rise.


lorely said...

I love this one! Writings about future, paths and destiny are so rich. Much writing to behold.

Monika said...

Exactly Lorely, even writing about destiny and fate is as rich as the majestic powers themselves. thanks!