Different Strokes

Location: Hyderabad, AP, India

Lover of art and music. Fair and just, balancing the scales always as a true Libran. Partial towards chocolates.

Sunday, January 20, 2008


I spread my wings to fly, but cannot move an inch however hard I try
As many days have gone by, probably I have forgotten to fly.

Forgotten what it is like to have the wind in my face
Forgotten spring’s beauty and grace
Twittering of birds seems unknown
I am scorched in the desert forlorn

Ringing laughter, crimson skies
Birds to their homes flying by
Peace at heart, unaware of war cries
Days such as these have fled. Why?

Now I’m old and humor myself, stifling a sigh
I had all I had wished for and now I want to die
Deep from within a voice speaks up “You lie. You lie”