Head upon the clouds

I know of a dead heart buried in a body of white
Of a skin that glows crimson at the sun rise
Of a mouth filled with mysterious murmurings
Of an ear that witnesses mournful pleadings
A jubilant songbird sobs and sings at same time
Makes heavy heart heavier at every note piped
But I know too of woods in the north side
With heavenly perfume bringing senses alive
Where a ravishing flood washes away your remains
Tall palm trees to jump from or hang till you die
The wanderer breathes freshness but not for long
As dreadful creatures are hungry as they stride
A desire dwells as the air that blows through green
As you come under its soothing shade to sit
A desire free of fierce from sufferings of life
A desire to live again, to give life another chance
Human! your marvelous greed to remain content
A search never ending, A thirst beyond quenching
Its not in these woods that you will find homage
These woods are as dangerous as your agonized mind
Stay calm, go home, Its where you will always belong
Life is a path, travel through with a smile or just scowl

Indian Rose

Rose is a tremendous menace, symbol of evil
Allures a heart and deceits many with fake demeanor
With in the portals and eternal shades of temples
Hideous rose conceals its uncharted animus

Depart oh troubled mind! To your instinct, very own
To your soul, pricked by Rose, very own
Undermine the affection, that you summoned
Before you stand twilight of defeated avowal

Turned blue to black, in self fabricated demise
Blood of betrayal cause I met Rose in diguise
The red color was analogus to liquid in my viens
It took a life time to know Rose's true desire

Tears are not enough...

Pearl-white, transparent and magnificient
Lonely, dark-shaded, scary and pungent
Flashing between the despairing eyes
An awful gate of guilt, a gate of pride

On comfort is snatched my joyous smile
In anguish I am bathed in blood that I cried
On every moan beneath the sun of your choice
Roasted and tortured till half dead and half alive

Oh yes, the dearest god keep scrolls of deeds
To me he whisper solemn tale of my sins
Like a sinking ship, I drown in my own tears
Don't have faith, Faith is only to bluff a neophyte

Across the barrier of old life, nothing is new
Being loved or loving is not meant for a culprit
Don't hope for an angel to appear. These are my counsel.
Inside gate of guilt finally, I am resting in my mausoleum