Monday, 15 August 2011

Absence

Its your absence and
Desire . .
I emptied the pot of
Night.

Group of scientists
Counting the stars..
Wrinkled forehead
Breathes fastened.

When rain hits the pane
I see violence and riots.
There is no beauty
No charm, Sir.
Thread snapped,
Now collect the beads.
Precious and lost!