Tuesday, February 9, 2010

You Burn

The ancient incense burns
The fragrance lost navigation,
My beloved moves away
in helpless rage,like thee Beas *
Her heart in Ouroborous *

Applauding rain hammers
on the window pane.
I am buried in my writing desk
while the night lamp whimpers !
The world sleeps while
she on the insomniac bed
clutches her restless thighs and wait for her destiny.

Malhar* brings tears
we both are washed away.
Citizens wake up
and sit down to scribble
the inconsequential song
while the nocturnal owls hoot
declaring a war ! * Beas..Bipasha , a river in punjab and himachal
ouroborous ...the meeting of end with the beginning
Malhar ... aclassical raga

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