She Lost Even Her Loneliness!

A wandering lonely Cloud,
Not with a single drop of the blue-
She is laden with bruises,
Bruises of loneliness,
Solitary amid the sky’s heaven,
She stares at the din and hues below her.

There are seconds, though rare,
When she wants to be the nimbus lot,
Yet something pricks the red out of her,
A conversion from passion to bruise;
And there she bleeds only to the eyes of faith,
Raining red in the reign of grim and gloomy red.

Ever heard an anchor to a cloud?
Yes, this innocent Cloud has always been with one;
Knife for safety, and anchor for the cloud,
Hark! Piercing its own love unawares!
Wish the Cloud could break the chains,
And wander with her own swift gait!

The Cloud wants to go places,
Places full of dreams and charms;
Places where she could dance in her own colorful rain,
With flooding happiness all around.
She wants to be happy, in return she gets,
Is nothing but a pitch dark world!

The Cloud begs her anchor,
Not to hurt her so much;
The Anchor understands her so worldly,
Only to leave her once again all alone.
The Anchor is plaguing her,
With growing loneliness everyday.

Soon the Cloud will lose her fettered flight too,
She is growing- but feeble and fragile!
Soon the Cloud will lose her wishes too,
Colourful or black and white.
Soon she wants to see her dent,
Because that is what will be left as the only vent!

It will be a sad melodrama,
For the din, the hues below her.
It will be a mere tragedy for her anchor too.
But the hopes are tied only on one...
May be someday when it rains red again,
The cure to the bruises doesn't go in vain!

Creator's Inspiration Mime

The mad hours are over- it seems,
A serene calmness prevails;
Looks like the end of the world,
Beauty of newness herself unveils.

The face is the expression of expressionless,
The mind is sailing freely over the sea;
It is a great time to review,
And to allow your own self to be revealed.

I look into the deep eyes of horizon,
Wondering where to go at the next turning;
In the aisles of the sky, I am lost,
The misty clouds around me are humming.

The chasm of infinity is calling me aloud,
The colours of free creativity-redefining themselves;
There is a zest in my heart,
That is ready to explode the unexplored.

My Soul can't sit idle- food for creativity she needs,
I am yearning for colours to splash the sheets of sky;
Painting rainbows on the infinite canvas so wide and high,
Flying my bees and birds, higher than where the sun and the stars lie.

Amusing! It will be for the human eyes,
When it will be my creation's time;
When colours from my mighty heart's brush will be alive,
Our Creator's eyes with awe will seek an inspiration mime.