.Silver Sea.

Run across the brittle sands.

Time is never in our hands.

Breaking waves can see through you.

You sing out lies till they are true.

The screaming waves can end your wait.

These falling drops could change your fate.Find your ocean, your silver sea,

Become the wind and set it free.

Set me free, become my song.

Set me free, it won't take long.

.Violet hours.

This one day, that I bled,

There were strangers in my head.

There were maps. There were tyres.

There was the breath of hidden liars.

Smoke, and tape and leather,

the dim and the light together.

A butterfly, dry and dead-

And music in things you said.

There was mist, that seeped through towers.

There were several violet hours.

.The test.

Somehow till the song ends,
I’d listen and trace the way.
At the end of a day, I’d be sure
Of which hour had what to say.

Someday, when the clouds return,

I’d try not run from pain.

Instead of wishing the sun was back,

Will pray, pray for rain.

I waited till I lost the thought

To find out what it cost.

Not all guesses find the truth.

Not all who wander are lost.

.when my crooked tree speaks.

I think of fallen, twisted ways.

I think of old, dry days.

Those clouds that hid my silver sun,
And those broken words he says.

.we were born of the grey-green sea.

If these shadows lived,
They’d be alone.
And sailing kites would struggle free.

And your blue-black eyes
Would shine in me.
Like fireflies. Like the shimmering sea.

.I saw her paint those things unreal.

.Of Blue-Grey Doors.

The day I live my fading song,

The day I'd truly be-

You'd see me in your fogging mirror,

if you truly try to see.

The day I'd break the hidden locks,

they day my life is real-

you'd hear me in your falling steps,

when you truly try to feel.

.To take you through.

I took you through the dim, wet street
No lights, no sun, no voice to follow.
Just open lanes, a black leather seat,
My clouds, my hand, and my heart hollow.

.The Ink City.

My waves, my skies,

My black ink sighs.

My towers-all doomed,

All raindrops- lies.

Today, you're striking- as the wind is blue.
My dreams are ink. Your shadow is you.
The city roads sing., the lake can glow.
You hear light. I see songs flow.

The once speeding river's growing slow

while forgotten, hidden dreams slowly grow.

Rushing through my day,

All I say-

Is that uncertainty is more beautiful that you know.Every painting needn't have a clue.

We neednt always find the missing link.

Maybe, it was better if we knew.

But maybe, its much simpler than you think.

.different windows.

PURPLE

A broken mind finds its way

Through distant frozen lanes.

A broken ray filters through

my purple windowpane.Squinting through the tinted light,

purple in my eye-

I know that hues can make you sing,

and hues can make you sigh.
Purple, all those unsure moods

A swing from blue to lust.

I wait to find the crystal rains.

I wait to practice trust.

[These are excerpts from a book I worked on for a college project.]

On a different day

Old photographs fade away.

Like memories of things unsaid.
Something tells me--its a different day.
I would, this once, walk your way-
raindrops on my head.

Autumn Tales

The wind smelled slightly of wood,
a piano key struck a different note.
As waves of music washed the room-
autumn lingered a little longer.

Gripped by a pensive mood,
on a faceless fable i dote.
As florid gold sunbeams defeat gloom-
faithless hope leaves me stronger.

I secretly pray my prayers hold good,
as hopeful autumn delays the peccant snow.
I wish i'd have enough to wish for wen i should.
Perhaps faceless fables last longer than we know.