The Black Quandary

Image result for the curls painting

The black curls, oh the resemblance to the night

clings to her forehead, distraught,

like the spider’s web shambled,

crooked,   rubbing the forehead like the harsh waters 

rubbing the grey stone, by the riverside.

Polishing it maybe, intriguing,

forlorn tales hit back, yet again

saying the clandestine, monotonous, words,

one by one, the whole nine yards.

Magic, Stealth, vigour, 

anonymous all the emotions,

wrapped in the grey blanket

to  the body to cover the bitter marks,

The black curls, congruence to the pain,

symmetrical to the thorns,

playing angles, all the way

Oh, these black curls falls the way

it did that day.

Conundrum, play.





Image result for woman elegance

She stood in utter elegance,so bright and valiant;

she wore courage like diamond,solitude like the pearl embraced,

How remarkably she used her words,no foul manners,yet substantial posture.

Like tall trees,stood her vigorous thoughts,no plain emotions yet the truth spoke.

She was now,a lost dust..somewhere in the air,

Still,ravishing was her spark,unshaken…indomitable.

For everything shall have me.

Image result for women paintings black and white

Much crimson shades exists,

reverie of music dream like stunts,

Here I go,only to know,the zigzags of this era holds my breaths,

Brush harder and see,shake a twig,

remove the filth,

adore the formation,

as I move ahead,

casting the shadow,

through the words I eat,

like the ultimate breakfast,

I create and create,

the unflagging shakes.