Sunday, October 13, 2013


Fresh air has no moisture left to lose,
Yet green grass still turns golden brown.
Long lost hope sticks its tongue out for a moment or two
Only to realize that you are mute.

Crimson hue shall always try to keep craving for joy, love and victory.
Though birds of prey seem to be starving, yet
The morgue is an exhibit of live rodents rather than extinguished humans.
Give me comics, cartoons and pebbles to throw at you –

Hurting your heart through a slingshot to hell.

My crimson heart renounced the hue
As it seeks the shelter of the dark.
Relay me the sound of your tears;
Allow me to gag away to the unknown.

Darkness – was what was before my eyes,
When I was dazzled by your smile.
Was it your eyes that fooled me?
Or, was I merely dreaming?

Whatever it was, it made me feel like dead
As the aura felt like heaven.

I’m looking out the window –
Swarms of faces glide by across as I glance.
Your face might have been any of those that floated by –
There is nothing special at all when I compare ’em all.

Oh, no! Now I see!
I think you are the fifth from this coming next.
Indeed there is nothing special;
Absolutely nothing special at all –

Only, you are Crimson.

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