Friday, September 11, 2009

My Love beats..



I wish,
If I can hold my breath
Till death and re incarnate as a butterfly
Or
To let you to snatch me like
A storm grabbing a nestle..
Softly and gently....

My happenings on you
Was never a succession, or a possession
It was a tale of a butterfly
Which damped in rain and
Fell alive, and alone

1 comment:

Satheesh Sahadevan said...

kutee.awesome....
dig the past cover it with ur poetic slang which makes think rethink and rethink.............
fabulous works..........keep writind.....