Coursing through the tall pines
Your silvery eyes
Came upon the crooked rocks.
We paused and gasped
And the solitude of this ambience
Washes us in fearful admiration.
The water, with a graceful gait
Kissed the lush and encroaching grasses.
The bright and dark patches of the sky
As we sat together
On a piece of broken rock,
And the rivulets of our tears fell,
Mingled and travelled with the sparkling water.
JUST FOR A LITTLE CUP OF FAME.
Why we are the way
We are, a question,
Lost in the fine sand of complexities
The rustling wind of foreboding
Startles the whiteness of yore.
Those days, striving to escape
The drabness of our time,
Transfigures memory to a haven
But reason was discarded
And all was given up
For a little cup of strong wine.
Drenched and shivering, a loner
Is the ghoulish shadow that was
Once an emblem of our oneness
Oh! That earthenware we ate from
And all the debris we drank
Shall mourn the dismembered fingers!
Should we have been in a pod?
When you couldn't even bend a shoulder
To allow a deformity?
Instead you shed me
For a little cup of fame.
When we shall come panting
From the land, undulating and thorny
When we shall come, who knows?
A single gust of wind, like hurricane
May sit me permanently on your head!
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