Red.

This time around,
Words bled.
Same as before,
They twirl around her face,
The perfect face
Of deceit.

An ornament in red,
Against pale skin.
Like the raging fire ,
That engulfs in her,
All that remains uncharred.

How is it that words,
So cunning, yet sweet,
Imply such desires,
Making her see
Red all over again.

Deafening words of silence

The implications of words
Not known,
Until the hour of parting.

It was thought to be,
Easily accepted.
Whatever happened?

Like a drug she craves,
One touch,
To soothe all cravings.

Shivering in delighted ecstasy,
Alone again,
Hours ticking along slowly.

Building up hope of a miracle,
Just something,
To kill those anxious thoughts.

Was it those words,
His words,
That drowned all dreams.

There seemed to be noise,
Utter chaos,
But it was all within.

She thought she knew before,
This silence,
How wrong was she!

It was only known later that night,
How truly,
Silence can be deafening.

Reflections

A lot of times, you may feel that you have changed,for the better or at times for someone else. You may not even recognize yourself anymore. Who you were before and what you have become.

I stare in the mirror,
To look at me.
The person I was,
The person I would be..

This image of mine,
Reflecting  back.
The one I barely know,
The one I thought was me.

She scowls back,
Her features lost of innocence.
Lines that run along,
Defining each expression.

Her eyes lost that shine
Lips without lustre
And endless pale skin
Who is it?

It isn't mine,
Not any more..
The person in the mirror
Is mocking me

Image courtesy Google

On Reading..

Often we connect with the words that another author has penned down. Its because somewhere deep down we feel the same.

That's why we love them so much and relate to them. They become more than just words and  turn into our feelings. Somehow, on reading, we connect :)

***

When I read such a verse, 

That touches my heart,

And strikes a chord within.

For my poetry resounds

In their words,

Just like my words would have felt.

I wonder at times,

If they felt lost.

If they too were lonely and alone.

Like my state is now,

Of bleeding words,

From wounds that lie below.