Saturday, June 4, 2011

Careless whispers

lost among the dark clouds,
bathing in her brilliant fragrance, 
There was a softness in the wind whenever she spoke
like she was burnt in the pain,

He craved for one more sip from those lips,
his mouth was getting dry.

she danced to him inside the rain
"you're not going to remember
this tomorrow, the dance
or the flashes of open heart
or the rains"
He uttered : "let me get one more sip from your lips,
I'm parched ".

another toast to oblivia
who knows without knowing

the blindest eyes can hear the truth we miss between syllables

an untold story turned into stone,
a nowhere turned into home.

Now I have a page of my clicks on Fb ,Visit Recreating Reality.
If you like the work,then please share it.
Thanks Friends :)

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