The Penultimate Day

The Setting Sun
The Birds flying away
Have just one thing to say
You are around
For the penultimate day

No time is enough
To make you listen
What Heartbeats have got to say
May be some other day
A similar leafy way
When the time
Won't keep us at bay

I beg you
Give me a moment
I swear you won't lament
Through the eyes
To my soul
Want to imbibe you
As a whole

As always
For you
My heart will yearn
In your pursuit
I'll take any turn
I'm yours
Keep that in mind
Mad for you
I've gone blind
Every place you move
Will see me behind

Like the dice
The days will roll
I Wish for me
Exists a number
Exists a day
That dicey fate will roll
when towards you
I will stroll

A Writer Is Born

When your words 

Get no ear

Eyes throw a Pearl

I call Tear

Away from the lights

Alone you mourn

There And Then 

A Writer Is Born

When the world is fast

Like the beast with Horn

And you move slow

Like the Worm

When yourselves you question

Why for me

Defeats Setbacks are the norm

There And Then

A Writer Is Born

When for your Rose

You are nothing but a Thorn

You look for someone

To sew you up

When inside and out

You are torn

When you collect yourself

After the Storm

There And Then 

A Writer Is Born

The well within

With feelings emotions

Is filled up to the Brim

Chances of taking more in

They are too grim

When all from the inside

Out on a paper 

Gets thrown

There and Then

A Writer Is Born