It’ll  quench fully automatically

 

 

You could buried the life alive

About to be happened

For this life!

Hence for an unknown reason

I had to born thrice

For a good slice!

Being born thrice

Means encounter adolescence

Also thrice!!

Thus a notable span of time

Have been blowing away

Only to get the fruition.

What is the age?

I asked the mirror instead of clock

While a heap of manly Mona Lisa’s sorrows

Being gathered at the back stage.

But yet life still blinks as the light of toilet

Nothing couldn’t interfere her

It’ll  quench fully automatically

Completely………..

 

 

 

14th March, 2017

 

 

One’s mysterious lonely stance

The road that had gone into my mind

And then lost into the mystery

I live with that thrill, utterly.

Yet I never grasp its unfathomable mystery

Yet sometimes through the melodies

Sometimes through the words

And again penetrate into the mind game

Called chess, what never ended up

With a simple lively hiccup

But wasn’t it enough?

Where there are scattered edges of melodies

That I once broke them into my orchestral dreams

Even the rhododendrons, magnifying glasses

That had swept by the scavengers unconsciously

Should I had to stopped, the chess mind think twice!

What I’ve left only for the manifestations!

That never rebounds as mystery!!

Lies, lies or lies all remained as fallacies once,

Hence, it hurts when it’s only sounds

That is why, I keep myself mute

In this remnants of time.

Embodied softness with the dark supple wings

Into the known periphery of mystery.

 

12th march, 2017