Purvesh khamankar

A songless bird with knotted words,
Crying amongst the merry folk,
Yearned for a touch, a tiny smile,
The love of which spreads mile and mile.
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Allow me to be,
what my heart beats.
See my dreams with awe,
the way I see it free.
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For many a filthy centuries I droped dead beneath the moon,
for many a happy festivals I saddled away in gloom,
for longing days of endeavour I traveled in my yard,
for countless nights of feinging flights I droped down hard.
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Save those who mind being neglected upon a worthy cause than themselves,
I have many, one in the mirror in which I look.
Pray for him to hold himself,
cause he is destined to retreat under a formidable disguise.
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The world got raw,
There is no beauty,
To see and to share,
For eyes of despair.
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I am sad,
And the sadness is me,
We both are us,
And us are we.
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For sometime, I really believed in the world
Fair as it was to my black eyes,
Vowing to forgo the price of miracles,
I didn't realise that miracle is for show.
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Either hate me or love me for u cant change me,
the truth is false if otherway round you see.
How one feels, how one acts I dont give a damn,
as i love myself and I am who I am.
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Its cold, out in the shiny night,
A thin covering... a flame out of sight.
The shallow trees bending low,
So much to freeze in the warm snow.
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So much to say, much less in words,
Such flight to take, unlike a seasonal bird.
Brown and green, seen unseen,
Blue and red, heard and said.
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