-Namratha Mahapatra and Madhukara Holla
A Blink, A tear drop
Rolls down without any reason,
Is it me, or thoughts that play without a stop,
Is it love or is it treason?
Tears yours as they drop down,
Feels like blood,my own;
And my chest turns crimson,
It must be love, not treason!!!
Crimson tubes of unspoken melt!
Has the heart skipped a beat
Or stays completely unaware of what it felt?
Can it bear another blow;
Or rest assured,that this time care shall be dealt?
Heart's a furnace, no thermostat it has;
It can take as much heat it does wish;
Only, one doesn't know the fury of its abyss,
It may burn the whole shop, leave you without bliss!!
So said the burnt heart,
And went silent all over again,
The fear that is a shadow of its word
Kept ringing in the mind, and keeps me in guard!!
Silence within; noisy clouds outside,
Tears don't show; but feels like waterfal;
The burnt heart leaps, weeps and heals again;Inside
Sheds a layer and awaits yet another love's call!!l
An optimist walks in the lane,
That lane wet, fallen by incessant rain,
She greets everyone, and so hides her pain;
The heart is that optimist, though wet in bane,
Says, hopes she has, never goes in vain!!!
A look, a glance, stiffled sighs,
Balmy dew drops of kisses not blown,
Rhythmic beats, hormones take new highs;
Hope leads the heart, to new heights or destinations unknown?
There is no destination unknown,
To the heart that never skips a beat;
Omniscient it is, omnipresent and omnipotent,
While takes one to new heights, yet keeps him glued to his seat!!