She was a flower so fair
Of forests wild and sparkling rivers
Of warm sunlight and morning dew
Of tress so old and young and new
Dancing with the wind among the bees
Telling her stories of twigs and wild honey,
And one day there came along the Prince of the Castle
Twas but a glance that a spell bound
She cared not the bees nor the whispering trees
Alas! a fleeting glance thou carest not, oh charming Prince.
And thus she said to the eastwind, that blew in haste
Blow my scent till thou woo my prince to me
So blew the eastwind, till the Prince said;
"Tis so sweet the wind sayest
Where art this scent from whither it comest"
Till he saw a flower dressed in dew afresh
And he bent low to take a breath
Closed his eyes as to drain the sweet
And her senses thus his caress defeat
Quick as he came, she saw him leave
Even as she held high her heave
With eyes still closed to reminisce
And she loved him so!
Thou art but a flower fair
Sang the forest in frowning despair
Yet she prayed to the magical dew
To turn her into a damsel for as long as the night's new.
And so she left the wild, a dame
To seek the Prince Of pleasing ways she so well knew
Learnt them she as a flower since
She spokest thus of charming things,
Oh with a gentle ease.
She sang a song of lover's paradise
Thou art but a flower fair
With a hundred hearts that shouted high
Tell thou truth the time is nigh
Thou art but the flower fair
The secret she held fast but her eyes did betray
Oh my love I want you, pray
Pardon thou my fears that my heart's in woe
Withereth now in mine own delight
Your ignorance of my guise.
As I did so, I canst look now into thine eyes
He doesnt know, He doesnt know
Oh the eastwind will you tell him so
But no, not this hour nor this day
Lest he draw apart and thus I fade
Alas, she is but the flower fair.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Four seasons
Floating in the wind and flying with the wings,
Being alive and just breathing,
A fleeting glance and a burning stare
Pain and rapture
What that's dead and thats dying
Will you like who you wanna be
When you are there, is that the place?
Swinging between reflections and reality
Lost in the ripples of an evanescent eternity
Being alive and just breathing,
A fleeting glance and a burning stare
Pain and rapture
What that's dead and thats dying
Will you like who you wanna be
When you are there, is that the place?
Swinging between reflections and reality
Lost in the ripples of an evanescent eternity
Inspired by thoughts on alternate universes
Its like a circle, it looks the same whichever way you look at it. Its like you turn it to get to the other point you have to leave the place you are in. I wanted to be lot of things like Director of movies, writer, own a huge company, investor, actor, singer, dancer ( This one i never wanted to make it commercial even if i do make it big there), a surgeon, journalist.
Of all these things I could have never given my best if I had been two things at the same time. I see you reach a point in genius where you see life from a whole new perspective. You see that all you ever did and have was a collective work and the only thing that mattered the whole way down was only your choice.Its like a journey to a place you know very well, but have never been to and it is as you want it to be as long as you are willing travel. It was given to you, earned it or created it or strived for it whatever it may be called, it was consistent choice by faith or hope or will. So, choice may be the most toughest thing to do on earth. Nothing more, nothing even more.
Of all these things I could have never given my best if I had been two things at the same time. I see you reach a point in genius where you see life from a whole new perspective. You see that all you ever did and have was a collective work and the only thing that mattered the whole way down was only your choice.Its like a journey to a place you know very well, but have never been to and it is as you want it to be as long as you are willing travel. It was given to you, earned it or created it or strived for it whatever it may be called, it was consistent choice by faith or hope or will. So, choice may be the most toughest thing to do on earth. Nothing more, nothing even more.
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