If looking to make a little mistake
I have come to you
Do not ask me why I am so
We had met on the
other end of this song also...
The moment of which some memory and
some forgetting were weaved
And now all over we are in a tune
played on the festival of strangers,
If it is there, do not ask me of its beginning
Do not ask me of birth
in which way I am...
For death I have seen and my birth is many
I do not have long words to tell you
of my stories
of escapes and chase
inside the caves of the heart
in a dropp and a sea
a moment and an age
blend together and turn into a company
that is why night is young, always.
If my sorrows are caressed by unseen thoughts
If my tears are theft by the traps styled by my own self
Ask me not, why I don't cry
In the lanes of life, I too turn back
to take a glance at places
which I have left and to which shall never return.
In an unspoken voice
I write on you the music of a touch
We shall never know, the last time we sit side by side
And speak and think of nothing has just passed.
If looking to make a little mistake...
I ask you what the colour of love is
In which garden blossoms the butterfly
And embarks on to eternity to meet the wings of rainbow
Know that, it is in the joy of celebration
of the defeat of my ageless loneliness
in the hands of meeting a moment of yours,
I am portraying my own sketches in a shade even
not known to me
So just let me make a little mistake
As I come across a mirror while crossing the road
Let me glance at myself and not think what I see to be known..
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (connotation drops by Aman Saa )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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