Pain

pain

punctual

in thick memory

vultures in ice

one by one, on and on

smoke sleepless

woolly silence white

snowfall

image:fineartamerica.com

A Rolling Ball

A rolling ball, I am

Sometimes I roll, to tips of mountains
Giving you ripples of pleasure, maybe rattles of fears too
As I stand towering high, on muscles of iron

Wise Delight

Every pain, an imagination
As unreal, as stones fell depressed
Sinking into thin waters
As unreal, as stones raced happy
Rolling upon wet slopes

Pure, for Love

This anger
Seems but a lava, of tears
Erupted, in your shrunk heart
To find a vent out

This fear
Seems but an ice, of tears
Frozen, in your paralysed heart
To find a warm corner