Writing is simple,but not easy.

May 4, 2011

Scarlett


A dark clouded dream on a fiery night
Teases the crescent moon
A veiled face hides behind the candle light
She lay still in the lovers coccoon.


They're walking in circles
Their lamps mask their faces
A cold wind caresses
The lashes of silken traces.

The smoke swirls up and then it dies
The crackling wood burns as it flies,
Shadows of the night are dancing,
Eyes meet eyes piercing.

Would you like my heart?
Would you like my touch?
A silent moon rolls with the lonely teardrop,
A waiting heart beats after a stop.


New lives are woven every night,
And fortunes kindle in the silver light
The tryst of the scarlett robe,
A pregnant truth flickers as a ray of hope...





Gyanban thoughts - Gypsies travel from one life to another, one world to another, carrying their love,pain or sorrow udner the hood of resilience.No one know where they came from or where are headed to,they just move on. I think we are all moving like them,from event to event, chasing the unrelenting final destination,and somewhere we find it will come to us in all it s glory and beauty.

image courtesy:desktopnexus.com



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