His ghost lingers on
in every thought she ever thought
like a love that wasn’t to be
like the soul mates who never meet
like the thirsty earth wailing for heaven’s moist mouth
like a familiar stranger that eyes behold just once
like a fragrance that invokes the aching past
like a rainbow bubble that would a moment last
like a dream that has faded to forgetfulness
like a blushing rose that withers and dies
before it could exchange hands.
His ghost lingers on and on and on…
To go into the forest deep
And not a soul would know where I breathe.
The rain kissed earth, the sun bathed rain,
My notebook filled with words yet to write
With the ink that is yet to be spilled.
And upon my word, I swear
I would forever live and die there.
Shall I write for you a letter
so painfully written with my teary ink?
Or pluck a forlorn rose for you?
Its red as deep as my ocean of love. Continue reading
If words be written to seal the beauty
and art to capture all that words can’t
then every drop that into papyrus bleed
and every brush that into the canvas weep
will do so for my muse alone.
Yet truth it is that all smithy would fail
to transcend his being into inky hues
for never did beauty reside in words
and never was art fairer than my muse. Continue reading
My quill is inked with
deceptive poetry and
My paintbrush is dipped in Continue reading
The night is ghostly dark,
The moon- a pale hue,
Amidst the earth’s lost depths,
Did I wander through and through.
“What afflicts thee?”I hear you ask.
“That through the murky depths alone
When repose at thy brow must lie
You seize Luna’s nightly throne?”
A man I knew not long ago