i had let out a call into the night
and no one answered.
you had left me
let me down, thrown me aside,
battered, bruised and broken.
now i will walk away,
i have to.
dont sigh now please and make things
look so difficult for me,
you were just not there
and i must leave now, alone.
i will vanish at an orange morning
and it will snow the night before
in the rough Indian terrain
and all the cactuses shall bloom
and their thorns turn into velvety leaves
the dust of the roads
shall transform into grains of diamond
and glisten in the sad forlorn moonlight
rain water shall patter into a glass bowl
and fill it on account of your tears.
the kokil shall sing all night
from the mango tree in a heart broken tune
and cry so blue for his piya
that the silent sky shall be soaked in the deepest blue
and the world sleeps,unaware of another heart
hidden behind reeds beside some forgotten pond
weeping its tears alone by the muted stones.
the desolate love bleeds alone, a jackal howls nearby.
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