Parasites

It's a pity,
an act of forbearance,
how, in love, must the giver,
bear anguish, beyond tolerance,

 It's a shame,
an act of contempt,
when the worth of true affections,
is a life drenched in abasement,

 But, 
why must the taker care?
We breathe midst the parasites,
Lover flourishes,
Until the last drop,
bequeathing fares.......

 (c) S.S 


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Feet in Blood !

(c) Shilpa Sandesh Her gaze is set, At the wide spread ahead, Lights glimmer, Racing motors on the road, And noises undefined, From far away; But no landscape can collate, With the bruised patches, in her heart; No motors are at par, With the speed of her hastening thoughts, And no clangor as loud, As the shrieks of her caged soul; Blaming is like, Plucking the petals,  of a blossoming flower, To take the blames, Is like being pushed, To walk bare foot on thorns; It's a puzzle, it's a jumble, Her inner self is, Disarrayed, cluttered,  It's a muddle; Those moments are no more, When she was, Besotting to his eyes; When her tears made his eyes wet, When seeing her in pain, His heart ached; She is a reflection, Of the fate's rebound, In the broken mirror; She walks, On the scattered glasses, And Oh! My feet are in blood!
Read more

Wake up....Good Morrow To You!

(c) Shilpa Sandesh Wake up, Good morrow to you! For you're to me, The first ray of the morrow sun; For I wish to see you rub those drowsy eyes, And wake up from that soporific sleep; I know the night was long, Our frames were interlaced with each other, but not along; You appeared in my gorgeous specter, Even the rainbow smiled, spilling upon me its seven colours; The day be a special one, as you'd soon hold a fraction of me, The surface you would touch, bears my touch unseen, So wake up, From that sublime sleep, It's the moment for us to meet........
Read more

Breezing Hearts & Seeking Souls (In Collaboration with Aman Sharma)

Image
A wishful silky strange string hanging like jovial streaks, Daring enough to debunk the distance between these soaring peaks. Sterling with a divine tinge of that cordial connection, Chisel of time to glorify another caprice of affection. A myriad of aspiring waves traversing the mirthful seas, Seeking to reach the mountains, on board the winter's breeze. Smiling to that saccharine beatitude from a distant form, Like a star aglow, midst the storms of ceaseless forlorn.  Affinity wrapped with the aroma of their magical accord, Blizzard of that bountiful bonhomie to caress that climactic charming chord. Magnetic is the enchanting inveiglement of yonder hearts, Endearing, their destined traverse, entwined pneumas of frames apart....... (c) Aman, (c) S.S   
Read more