December

The skies were no more vibrant,
Possessed by melancholy
The days were sluggish.

The thick frost on windows
Made the outside world more obscure.
Each second as the clock ticked
There was something that slipped past,
Nostalgia struck with each hour.

Every figment disappeared in fog,
The departing footsteps were dominant.
Burning woods flickered
To the ruthless winds.
Each gust pierced through
The murky perceptions.

Draped in all white like a bride,
The moon hung there in solitary.
Drowned in mist,
Words became insipid.

Like tears rolling down,
The dew from drenched leaves

Trickled deep into the soil.

Silence was ambiguous,
December drew a faint line
Between life and lifelessness.

Leaves of the Fall

Disowned from my roots

Frail and feeble,

I trembled in the cold winds.

From the murky drains,

To the river -

Drowning deep.

Gushed out by the torment currents,

Hit now and then by rocks -

Pierced by the malevolent shower,

I reached the calm sea.

Wounded by the brackish waters,

I fought each wave,

Climbed onto the other

Gasping for breath -

I made it to the shore.

There were clouds hanging low,

And in the warmth of the sand,

I basked in the afternoon sun.

A gentle hand,

Carefully lifted me.

Dusted and washed,

She slipped me in a diary.

It smelt tangerine.

There were fairies and stories,

Kisses and tears,

I could hear laughter.

Some desires settled in footnotes

Dreams all over -

Some in bold, some scribbled.

Beautiful signatures and traces of solitary.

Each day she flipped through pages

Inked some stories.

A withered leaf,

Bookmarked each day of life.

Selflessness

Not a day one beholds,
Havoc throughout-
Remorse written all over,
Grief all bundled up.

Washed away by the dejected winds,
Clouds stationed lifelessly.
A piece here and there,
None bothered to wave at a kin.

Not a bird fluttered,
Neither a leaf twitched.

Like a child,
With an incessant sob -
Drifting away from love,
It stood there aimless.

Ash strewn all over the sky,
Neither a smile or a frown.
Aghast by its aggression,
And the growing beastly muscles -
Filthy curses,
It endured.

In a moonless night -
All the pride tonsured.
Selflessness, not a virtue to race -
But to nurture.