Now, I no more hear or see the prints,
Its an empty bowl with not trace;
Then, it was trees filled with fruits,
Riped to taste the flavor all over the lips.
Now, the music is sad with unknown,
Left in lurch searching to drink;
Then, the room was filled aloud,
tapping the floors mystical rhyme;
Now, she sits alone close to the window,
As her hair lifts by the wind;
Then, she draped all beautiful and glitter,
To touch the rosy petals waiting to dip;
Now and then,
Time flies at day and night;
She never asks why,
And only the unknown knows.
The above poem is by very talented poet Priya. Her popular journal of poems is here. Priya's other blog is here. Both the blogs are highly recommended.
p.s painting by Raja Ravi Varma.