Sunday, August 24, 2008

Winds

Whene’er it comes near
I, don’t need ‘em at all
As weeks does pass
Feel something’s not

Scratch I my soul hard
See myself’s lost
Think I can more not
Heart cries at last

Find where those eyes are
Found! Found them I!
In joy cry I loud
Sparkling am I not!

For I see my beauties
In those faery eyes
Innocent aren’t they
Or angel am I not

Tears they start shedding
Blurred now see myself I
Those tears aren’t of joy
Screaming they are Bye!

Gasping shuddering I am
Hell worried am not I
As again I won’t see
Beauty and those eyes

Later that all play
Mourn sobingly I
Whene’er it comes near
I, don’t need ‘em at all

( Its "La belle Dame Sans Merci" in my words )

1 comment:

Sajjad said...

Great No Doubt..!!
Teri wording kamaal hay yaar..!!
Lagta hay kisi Perfect English Poet ke hay..

Regards
$ajjad