When my day turned cold,
cheer up is what I was told.

Whisky had its toll,
the mood swung, the thoughts lose and
the iPod played Rock n Roll.

I took out a pen and a diary
to write a song about a fairy.

It’s 6 A.M then and I was off to sleep.
Lost in dreams, my eyes peeped.

I couldnt help but go deep,
its hard to resist even though I was asleep.

Because she has eyes 
One in a million|
Because she has eyes
One in a million|
I woke up with a half-slept dream.

To my rude awakening, 
sometimes her reality-kissed eyes become a stream.
Is there a heartache?

Sometimes it becomes the grace of kohl.
Is it just another imagination of mine
or is she her own masterpiece?

Sometimes they become the innocence of a 2-year-old
and sometimes a mirror for the heart.
Is it a reality or is it an optical delusion of the mind?

Asked a distressed me,
soon my soul answered:

Because she has eyes.

One in a million
Because she has eyes
One in a million

Her eyes could only hear
but I never spoke. 

My heart was heavy and cold. 
The limbs shivered but I was bold.

I have a fairy tale that awaits expression,
and how I wonder the Lips of ashes 
rarely want to speak ‘bout a thing. 

Because she has eyes 
One in a million
Because she has eyes
One in a million


Proximity into the dark blue sky,
the light & shade of the shimmery world
makes me feel shy.

Dark kohl eyes, watch me by and 
I lie silent inside the four walls of my life 
as every second pass by.

Melancholic memories echo 
and leave me furious. 
As I write, the pen,
sweet, but painfully hit my ego.

I spend hours with the empty strands and 
realise that those essays with little hands 
have casted their ways for bluish poetries.

While to my subconscious;
poems, stories and some part of you
are like cobwebs in the empty strands.