Like the southern breeze
You have entered my life
Pinning down the doors of unexpectancy
Lighting the exhausted flames in me

Kissing the broken chunks
Piece by piece
You have put me back together
Like a jigsaw puzzle

Your smile, your laughter
Which is now the sweet melody of my life
Your voice, dances in me
Like some angelic rhythm

Your eyes , the mystical art
Unfathomable , like an abstruse dream
The words that flow out of your lips
Sparkle my mind with magic

How long has it been since I have known you?
Days, months, years, centuries
They do not hold significance
Time is relative in such beautiful forms

I have felt your spirit, your soul
Through the poetry that you speak
Through the transcendental touch
You are the new moon of my life.

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When beauty leaves a heart fluttering

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In the world of far fetched thoughts
You are an algorithm of togetherness
Of Pain and joy
or Richness and Poverty

You are like a Mandarin expression
With random inflections in you
Flowing tenderly into
tributaries that lead into my heart

You are the gentle warmth of the sun
that slowly settles down into
dimness of mist manufacturing
As the evening breeze brushes our souls.

You are like a deftly sculpted memory,
An ideal refuge
between Heaven and Earth
An image of remembering
How calmly have you made occults sigh

You are a symphony of nature
The perennial joy, woven into time
Your delicacy that is as old as the anatomy of oceans.
Flying through the grand plains and high mountains
Your wings have left the birds envying.

But, I have been guilty of overlooking
your hands, your heart,
Your voice which has been the music of my blooming
You are my new found peace
When I have been besieged, lost and alone
You have been my pride of light, in haziness

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I have walked through countless isles
holding the feigned pride on my face
Wondering, how such beauty has been
riveted in your deep sable eyes.

Endowing measureless time
in search for the words
to aptly describe your flair

Scrutinizing every inch of
your petite words
the life warping truths
that shudders me down to nothingness

You, who have clasped me
with this impercetible strand
Oh! how staunchly have you collared me
into the tenebrosity of your charms.

With each passing hour
I have uncovered your wicked slant
out from your sinlessness complexion
These vicious charms, that cut through me

The string you have interwreathed me with
Bloating up now, like an illusion
Your untenable quantum gravity
Conquered with the final crumb of my firmness.

The Biopsy of a Poet

In the depth of the night
Cloaked in silence, Words visit me
There is a strange sense of anticipation
in this hour of darkness.

I am blown away
by the idiosyncrasy of these metaphors
Like the fragrance of the morning mist
I embrace this fresh breeze

The verses within me take forms
Shining out of my words
The poetry in me is alive again
My individuality clefts open

I am the oblivion, I am the blaze
I am weak yet powerful
Under these new clouds of myth shattering
My joy is quick and short

What brilliance is my soul chasing?
A muse to enmesh my words with
Perhaps a cadence to write more
to satiate myself in marathons of poetry.

Like some great love that perishes with time
I listen myself, while I become a writer
I read ballads, written for myself
and not for a dime or a dream.

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In this moment of silence, I have paused, and wondered
Like a memory, stripped off it’s odour
I have forgotten, again, 
the scarcely remembered songs
I am a lost cause of the whispering night 

Across vast distances, unconspicous as the morning mist
The candle in me has not much flame
As a living debt fleeing out of reach
To pay a little and a little to preach.

The Flinty Aisle

Published it yesterday….

SPOONFED

11_by_donmezerm-d7d57b4

There is a new road leading to a new city
With red leaves from December
rambled in the candid truths of time
branches of tempting struggles
that grips time in hollow minds

Your scrawny voice, that rips through
my etherized face of memories
the slumber scent, that covers the road
in the anticipation of a silver spring.

These symbols of hypnotizied realities
Like a new floor of myth manufacturing
Words that pierce sharper than the silence
Dangling between the stillness of time

Hopes soaring uncertainly to nightfall
The dreams that have kept me awake
The beautiful imperfection of yours
I don’t have the courage to take new routes
I don’t have the heart to let you go

The crepuscule reconcilation of our souls
There is an inscrutable fusion
Of all the misery, the emotion , the trust
Some winged desire of dazzling dreams

We are however flawed in our own…

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The morning dew, that slips into the eyes
The soft warmth of the sky
The nobles of my mind
Building wonderlands amongst mountains of reverie

From the husk of the soul
They contrive the fragile roofs
The painless paths to the blue

The inevitable lights construe
The crescent depth of the clouds
Reaching the conscious creeks,
The branches that bear fruits

The salt and the sorrow
That my mind consumes so graciously
The air that fills my voids
Where idiosyncrasy  meets consonance.

But the confinement of the dawn
That dampers beauty to the edges
Where I am naked, singular before the god

It slids under the cloaks of hopelessness
Where I hold sighs of love
The fading warmth, gently sucked into nothingness
The muses fade, as the rays of certainity
shine into my dwellings.

Pic Credits- http://donmezerm.deviantart.com/

The Flinty Aisle

11_by_donmezerm-d7d57b4

There is a new road leading to a new city
With red leaves from December
rambled in the candid truths of time
branches of tempting struggles
that grips time in hollow minds

Your scrawny voice, that rips through
my etherized face of memories
the slumber scent, that covers the road
in the anticipation of a silver spring.

These symbols of hypnotizied realities
Like a new floor of myth manufacturing
Words that pierce sharper than the silence
Dangling between the stillness of time

Hopes soaring uncertainly to nightfall
The dreams that have kept me awake
The beautiful imperfection of yours
I don’t have the courage to take new routes
I don’t have the heart to let you go

The crepuscule reconcilation of our souls
There is an inscrutable fusion
Of all the misery, the emotion , the trust
Some winged desire of dazzling dreams

We are however flawed in our own dread
like empty hushes of an abandoned house
Familiar, forgotten, a secret door to memories
That spilled in and out of the consciousness.

I garner the tinges of the sun and your condign glint
As in a vaporous hallowed place, our rituals fade
Would the misty light hear my moning prayers?
to let us grope our own glory once more.

Image source- http://donmezerm.deviantart.com/gallery/