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 couldn’t help but go deep, it’s 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.