A Fable; Part One–The Flower

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From the shadows of the empty bed
And fires of the lonely nights
When the moon stood forlorn
Was born a Grey Rose
On the dusty and barren land
Which told tales not of love or lust
Nor of glee and freedom
Nor of togetherness
Nor did it speak of evil
Nor of sadness
Or for that matter–
morbid fabricated tales
Of love lost and death
It was a tale of a scavenger
A yearning
A longing and waiting
It was a reprise–
Of stagnated sheltered dreams

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Kahani

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The ruins of the colorful day, lay barren on the silted sea
Shackled in all the stories–we all tend to leave
One by one, dot by dot
As if it all were free
The dances with the storm and the placid glee
One by one and dot by dot–we all began to flee
The stories we lived and the faces we wore
Facades we dealt with–the farcical attempt to be free
Thinking about the ocean floor and how much was the sea deep
Or how often did the blackbird come, to the love famished tree!
The cloudy sky below which, sparked the days of lust
Of which were a thousands of them–long forgotten glories
And riches which were buried long before the Sun showed itself,
The first and last time to the Moon.
Thus the ruins of a colorful day and all the stories we lived
Came to an ending, much of it already seen