Poetry Blogs (aroma)

Intoxication to my greed,

Somehow you have sown the seed…

Your chair rests near or apart;

I know how much I bleed.

Matter of time or circumstance…

I don’t judge this distance,

All I know is my need,

And it is you who does feed,

Intoxication to my greed.

My apology had nailed the pursuit,

And I slowly distanced away…

With no regret albeit with many,

There we...

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On Thursday evening
I pray near a Grave in Kashmir
Incense sticks
And candles
Lit in bundles
Aroma makes me feel
As I kneel

This is land of my forefathers
Where they rest
I too look for a place nearest
I belong to these graves
Here my soul craves
To sleep till eternity
In the Eden of divinity
What else I should ask
That has more dignity

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