Honored by Usha Ma'am & Rukhiya


>> Dec 15, 2009

There is something very selfish about dreams.
Remembrance is a trespasser.
And still, every night
I dream of you, you of one and one of many.
We circle, forget and again indulge.

Futility has an attraction of its own.

A life that we live but we wish.
A truth we see but what we believe.
A dream that is awake and another that is asleep.

Light is bent for everything
that happens with our without us.

I wish I will touch the Sun on the horizon,someday.
Can emotions be that cold ever?
Never if they are alive.

In between life and death, I count dreams.
and cross tress with white chalks
So that in the morning I can just walk upto that
and believe what we don't wish to.

We are taught
I can only strive for a wish.
They should always be like tomorrows and yesterdays.
Between them we are, we live, and nomore.

I believe, I will meet me one night
To forget how to remember.
And see how the faded watermarks
learn to die and to live..

...yet another dream.



The Hungry Tide

Inspirations Continue...

  © Blogger templates Romantico by 2008

Back to TOP