Off
and on we know the diyas
floating illuming our gloomy isles.
Of those moments of solitude lost somewhere
behind the blooming dales of spring
Of
those shards of clouds shaded
between our autumn sky lines.
Of those words lingered but frozen
beneath the snowing pines leaves
Of those rhymes whispered but deluged in
monsoon s unbridled tears
And the void where dreams and despair vanish
and chirping of a life echoes
I listen you calling my name once more