Wednesday, 18 January 2012


Life, I know what it is when she is with me.
What does it mean when we are together?
I know she takes part and I take a stormy hug, afloat,
The place, the time, the event are not a matter of concern,
I know what our bodies are doing with loving mark,
The art by which limbs take part in forming body's bent,
Tucked with perspiration, boiling, at the peak of pleasure,
First it begins in eyes, then in mouth, and lastly we do fly,
Words of love, promises of love, closeness of love –
Bring heaven and in body's surge to declare:
“I am the earth, I am the love, I am the gift of love’s love.”

Life, I know what it is if she is not with me.
What does it mean if she is away from me when we turn to be selfish?
I do not feel any essence of love; the vast ocean is not blue,
I forget to pursue me for self protection or motivation and that is why
I cannot be warring knight, and words moving around
Do not sprinkle love singing, and instead stop to say meaning of love. 
And  gifts of love, when thoughts and feelings of love disappear.
It is loveless life, such living steals away energy, no desire. 
Either at the time of her departing, or after four years or more,
Which is earlier, and I cannot seperate my own time
That was once her time with me, thinking of mine,
And now I am frustrated with her absence by inactive sway
Of existence, moving into disorder of mind's attitude,
Inability to live with my own pattern of thinking and living.
My life is now a small rat in that it can be easily wiped out.

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