Chorusing on the pelages of some Yellow Warblers the goatherd faded away behind those ridges ; tripping on the fantastic skylines of sunset some slender reeds giggled through billows.
The plough boy, who was guiding some virgin clouds through his gentle smile and courteous shoon ; Where I, a scalded poet, was standing near the breaths of autumn to scribble about the pastoral hamlet for you.
Those clouds receded from my view, that plough boy didn't appear again but I whispered for the warblers "O darling ! Your sky won't forget me, right !"
I'm a lost child of autumn who hides behind the hunter's moon to steal the metaphors for cold heartbreaks, tipsy sunsets and twirling lavenders and I scribble sonnets near the blanket of darkness while embracing the collapsing world & disguised phantoms.
And you're the alone firefly neither belong to the breathless autumn nor belong to the purple lavenders You belong to that unclasping darkness melting away near the scalds of hopes while crumpling the wreaths of withered orchids & dead chrysanthemums.
We, two divergent portraits hung on the walls of two unrelated porches but we gulp the same syllable of a poet inside his antichamber of grey-lipped solitude yet offbeat for his paired fantasies.
Tomorrow I may forget those rhymes of your poem I may not remember your sumptuous sonnets Let me paint you with the umbrageous syllables now below the billows of a welkin and inlay my soul with the cheerful stars and your maiden moon.
Tomorrow I may not knuckle your face with my fingers I may scroll your elegies before gulping them Let me drown now inside the ocean of your diadem with the wreaths of orchids, tulips and daffodils I, a wallflower, again ween to be your austere hem.
Tomorrow The death may kiss my delicate clavicle I may abut the stars without bidding a final goodbye Let me breathe now inside the soliloquies of the worm moon before the death could scald my red tongue Let me chug those curtains of memories for the last time darling.
~those broken crayons in my bag are screaming inside the emptiness of life.
Cloak of clairvoyance settled upon grave Hazey eyes mystifying embrace Shallow shells beneath, shaking tranquility Forming fuzzy frolic forever cherished, Yet brings calamity along apathy Shivering scenes betwixt waves of destiny They rise and fall for benevolence within Alleviation i seek in her eyes often Beguiling creator knows seldom altruism, Perceiving pouring rain passionately Piercing perfidious bubbles in between Frost full heart and ashes on soul Completed loop longing for more love Holding picturesque dreams for long For time may pass but memories aren't lost Flashbacks revive vibing affection Caresses on dew dipped skin so mellow Charming melodies syncing slow, Being tributary of distant brook Verdant valley calling enrapture Revamping severed strings in winter Perhaps seasons won't be forlorn For poetries came back for more Dripping hues upon cicatrix so crimson
Her eyes look like, Unheard stories That the skies wrote On lunar-eclipses While the auroras rest on her sclera She paints a cosmos in her iris With lost stains of a crude sunset She wanders in a field of may-flowers Writing epistles to fallen petals She's an ardent florist Who makes mogras bloom in dead soil Her collarbones are shelter to catastrophes While she muses them on her fingertips She's a blend of elation and greys And on days My skylines are at stake She sends me hope in pixels I haven't traced her sacred skin In atoms and molecules But I've touched her soul The texture of whose Is like the petals of daisys And Wordsworth's poetries Her hair falls like advent of a night Like stream of waterfall That washes away my lassitude She's so much beauty That my quill shies away She's 17 fields of mayhem At a summer's edge She's eternity burning the brightest She's my home In hurricanes My soulmate, Till my last breath.