Thursday, 14 February 2008

Night and the Flower

Often in blankness
The Night stares
And sees the black flower bloom
Gore-veined
Drunk on the ink
Of Its skies
The Night mourns
Its slow seep
For the bud must grow
And Night must cry
Tears to keep it alive.

I am the
Tainted Night
Flower of darkness.
Hued too early in years,
Imbued with a melancholy
That no word or song or love
Will hold nor heal
We weep a lost dream
And live
On a reed pipe’s tune
That tells our tale
How

‘A night and a flower
Bloomed long ago…’

2 comments:

Johnny Cigar said...

great flow..
nice usage of short sentences.
nice!
Johnny!

virender vyas said...

profound ...

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