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

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