[60] Musings from a dark silent box.


In a dark silent box, I’m breathless
A revolt broods like lava
Like a calm before the storm
She moves inside the box and gives me music.


I live somewhere in between
your remembrance and denial.
You live somewhere in between
my fragrance and a lie.
We speak through shapes of clouds,
the colour they form.
Mine are the blues,
tell me yours?


I left the answers in the valley
to ask more questions in the city.
As clueless as before
I fade away
like the memory of yesterday.


You look around the haze
to catch up on my gaze
My drunk lies comfort you
My truth lies beyond you
Our afterglow, it fades
Who am I again?

Leave a Reply