Seasons

The day was sunny like a winter morning, Afternoon reminded me of your hug from last autumn. Evening came as though you returned to kiss me one spring night, When night fell, how I wished to forget the summer goodbye.

SACRED RED

Oh! My scarred forehead  Drawn in sacred vermilion Too scared to complain Red vermilion, red is blood What makes red sacred, ask I? Published here: http://notsilencebutverse.tumblr.com/page/2

Vermilion and the Bride

The vermilion glistened in the parting of your wet hair, Trickling down to kiss the bindi on the forehead fair It stopped an inch before, did not further dare…   Your earrings began rhythmic sway Caressing your hair; the pair stared at you in dismay The diamond perched on your nose winked a little You…

Departure

When your fingers and mine did not entwine And the distance between them grew wide, My heartbeat could not find the rhythm of thine, You flung the door open and went without a guide. As your footsteps travelled afar, And the tapping sound I could hear no more, I left the gates of my heart…

My Epitaph

Two days ago, I and my classmates were given a task to write an epitaph. An epitaph as we understand is an inscription written in the memory of the dead. The very fact that we were asked to come up with our own lines in the form of couplets or paragraphs/stanzas seemed a bit jolting,…