Saturday, 29 March 2008


In overcast skies
In grey damp mist
In sheets of rain
that never seem to stop,

Is lost my heart.

In arid deserts of the mind
In dry river beds of my eyes
In unforgiving glare
of the noonday sun,

Lies, bare, my soul.

In the fruit of suspicion
From the germ of mistrust
In spreading creepers
of slow pain,

I exist.

Usha, 1 July, '07

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