Treasure Island

Neela Nath


Is This Called...?


Is this called love,
That wants to share lust?
Is this called that,
A request comes fast?
The world that awaits,
To leave the nurtured world,
To hear the mellifluous chord,
Now is miserably hurled!
You may call me fool,
May consider rubbish thing.
But without touching me,
Can you play my string?
I can, I can, I smell you,
Can see you from too far.
Can feel you in absence,
Distance is no bar.
I never get any fatal scar,
In my heart, from you.
Your silence burst into tear,
But the drops fall as dew!

Submitted: Sunday, May 06, 2012
Edited: Sunday, May 06, 2012

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Comments about this poem (Is This Called...? by Neela Nath )

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  • Saadat Tahir (5/7/2012 5:42:00 AM)

    A request comes fast?
    The world that awaits,
    To leave the nurtured world,
    To hear the mellifluous chord,
    Now is miserably hurled!
    You may call me fool,

    so modern and omnipresent
    a simple and straight facet presented shiny and polished as a gem
    loved it

    :) (Report) Reply

Read all 4 comments »

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