something called love

Each drop of sweat… coagulated
Each count of red drop… clotted
Each intellect …unevenly paralyzed
I entered into the unsettled puzzle of love

Every breathe… abandoned on their path
Every organ depart a moment of their life… without any wrath
Every emotion choked… screamed …pleaded even for death
I am entrapped in an inevitable snare…called love

A symbiotic plant grew
With branches green…leaves highlighted with multi band hue
Bejeweled with sparkling beads of diamond dew
I am engrossed by the golden ring of fire …called love

subhashree p

I am a teacher by profession and poet by instinct. words are my breathe counts. everyday I inhale and exhale them in a synchronised rythm so that I would considered to be alive.

Last updated January 10, 2012