With welled up eyes,
I call upon your name,
one last time.
A goodbye
to the Gulmohar trees,
soldiering the streets,
and to
the sublime sunsets
in neon prints.
With welled up eyes,
I call upon your name,
one last time.
A goodbye
to the Gulmohar trees,
soldiering the streets,
and to
the sublime sunsets
in neon prints.
Beneath the sun
We immerse, hand in hand,
Our fingers in a lock
Flimsy, above this brisk sand
Its granule holds our tale
In rainbow ruffles
And flannels pale.
As soft as jasmine in her hair,
or cadmium in our world so bare
our calmness against rushing shores.
She is the beauty in our lores.
To me, my love,
no flower there shall be
that I cherish more than you.
No garden where I shall bloom
without you.
Am I pure?
or I have always carried a tainted soul.
Am I greedy?
For wanting what I deserve.
Am I bad-tempered?
For screaming, for stomping my feet.
Am I a hater?
For scorning at those better than me.
Am I beautiful?
With these cuts and scars.