The first showers...and the storm is just starting

as the fresh showers fade to june

April showers

• Mood: Euphoric
• Listening to: guitar greats
  
• Reading: kannada novels and academic stuff
• Watching: just world go by in slow motion
• Playing: Doctor.. with a sense of humor
• Eating: people and chewing on thoughts
• Drinking: water., as always

As the rain falls,
in the first showers, the dance of lightning on my face
the familiar pain rears up
so close yet so far away she is now
Drenching myself in the tears of rain
This mellow pain agonisingly ravages another me another time
strained are my senses are for another glimpse, another whiff of her
Looking for her dis far i have come
some rare hints
how much further i have to go I yet dont know
yet another time Rain, her messenger smirks again
twisting in my heart this mellow pain.......................................

(no punctuation because my heart heeds to no grammar)

the storm is just beginning

The setting is a grey cloud ridden sky underneath which theres a grey sodden gnarled path that hisses at each step.
The man, dripping hair in a medival cloak walking alone in this path, his head swimming among the many thoughts- his love- a pure white in colour, his 'friend' has news where she might lie after her abduction. but the violet evening around him bring strange sounds that chill the brave warrior's heart. His friend waiting, bowed as a hyena, for tidings of some loot turning as he feels the ground creak "there you are friend, have you brought the heart ? The kings heart??". the sudden change in the face in the warrior makes it evident that the work is done- the heart wrenching 'job'. as the familiar refrain runs in his head "What one may do for love?". The hissing sadist says in jest- "speak to me, speak to me(about it) seeing the face contort and break in a million ways. but even evil has some honesty to it and ridding himself of all the blood, says the devil's YOU not me........................


One feels the rain fall.
Your heart feels the pain crawl.
tyrannously the thunder rolls.
The lightning stealing souls.

I walk the deadly forest
The soul of ghouls.

Speak, my friend, to me.
For other than us.
Are none that speak or see.
Speak my friend here to me,
Of doubt that nags a heart dear to thee.
Speak my friend its bliss to me,
To see you cry.
And your love to die.

Look in my eye
And you shall see
The devils YOU
Not the hissing me.....................