So many presents have turned into prehistoric,historic,found inside museum,outside museum [hearts not included].here is one such encounter:
Songs n singing,
like the blowing dust,
i have left behind.
Sandy thirst has created mirage.
Under my emotions,
with the unstable legs
i have been walking on.
It was-
until i collided against
a door,
that was a museum's.
it opened thrashly with an
ingrating sound
as unwilling to welcome my
desperate incoming,
i thrust myself in anyhow,
licking my dry lips
as watering hope against hope,
not to expel from heart-
the aim of my search,
suddenly-
caught my glances
a showcase.To my surprise,
preserved, it was having:
THE LOVE!
awesome...
ReplyDeletedad u r great...
kya wordings hai...
awesome dad...
ReplyDeletekya wrdings hai...
How simply the poem captures the pain and agony one goes through to find a true love...sad but beautiful poem it is... :)
ReplyDelete