From where I stand

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What ifs and why nots,

life is caught in knots,

now all the questions that confronted me ever,

seems like a zillion highways stretching out in front of me in zillion different directions.

From where I stand, 

I see a traveller waiting for an answer in each of these highways, 

questions of their sadness and fear writ large on their face,

stories of failure and helplessness blooded with love and lust in their eyes,

Their lips zipped by time and heart chained for a light years.

From where I stand, 

I see trees waiting to grow to form a wall around the highways,

trees which were sowed many years ago,

waiting for something beyond light and water, they wait.

their existence lying in dust.

From where I stand, 

I see deserts waiting to find their shape and form,

To wash-off the dust from their soul, 

waiting for a long draught of life,

Their existence awaiting a touch.

From where I stand, 

I see many different things in many different ways,

in many different colours and shade,

all waiting for their end.

all waiting for their new beginning.

I don't want to feel it

defeat, lose and pain,

I don't want to fall,

I have seen it all.

Crestfallen, I stand.

The blame lies with me for what befall.

I don't want to feel it

I don't want to fall.

The kite has lost its way back home,
the traveler is tired,
the river weeps all night
and the sun frowns all day,
and waits for the moon at twilight.

Wasted

Wasted sunrise, wasted sunset

life is just wasted

hanging like a doormat.

perched on the needle,

time just breezes through

still dry in the rain, clueless

which way the wind blew?

Traffic in the mind,

eyes wake up in the snarl,

countless faces,

their lips all curl.

Wasted tears, wasted smiles,

life is just wasted,

rotting amidst flies.

A lemon moon wades through a crimson sky,
melancholic and unmindful.
Time takes a turn,
slow and steady.
The breeze meandering,
colours fades,
the moon is crimson now
and the sky lemon.