Wind and breeze are separated today
Crimson twilight denies to fade away
Grass blades turn brown to match the soil
We pretend to smile at every turmoil

Written soul is called poetry

Death is buried there into death
Hunger strikes on its own last breath
No spine to shiver, no heart talks
At life’s craving poverty mocks

From the poem 'Exhumation

If lighthouse becomes a burning candle,
flickered upon ocean's insanity.
Your sailing heart there anchors to handle
the obsessed breeze towards sand dune's vanity.

Every morning
before the birds start
trilling me their stories,
I give birth to a new love
through my same old heart
when a lake’s placidity
finds life in the swans breath
Only for you...

From the poem 'Only For You

My pond life with hydra is over; now I’m into the ocean world of poetry to dive deeper..