Poetry touches everything in life...Varma
A Widow’s day and night
Time fell from her
Like her falling hair
Her tears had the heat of years
Her sleep was full of dreams
She woke up with hopes
That evaporated during day
Only to rain down in night
With a little lighted lamp before her
She lived on her fractured dreams
Playing on her chords of memories
She fought her silent war
Against the fading shadow world
She always felt like a warrior
And knew there was a war to win
And a fire within her to be put out
A thirst to be quenched slow or fast
No comments:
Post a Comment