These are but murmurs of a muffled song,
-- chronicles of the flowering of mustard fields
-- dusty memories of a walk to the horizon
and whisper touches of a stolen kiss

His soul uncoiled like an unshackled spring,
His heart turned ashen,
When she walked away with all the answers --
to questions he is still asking

He loved with a fury untamed,
His passion had no bounds,
He lashed at the wind that caressed her face,
He burnt her heart with his flame

Dreams; they spoil you
Stroke you gently with the pleasing waves of colours so unreal,
And wake you with the roar of a freight train --
-- rushing through the middle of the head

Walking alone on the meandering hill tracks,
That melted in the mist of moutain tops,
He threw the tattered remains of his past,
Into the frolicking rivers that went by,
When he reached the top, he saw --
another beautiful valley --
-- with many more frolicking rivers,
and a meandering hill track, slipping into the mist

Crimson shadows of the night,
Grew longer by the day,
As he waited for the miracle,
That would flood his life with light

In search of a metaphor,
To end this story the way it began,
With the tender blush of the first kiss,
On a rain swept night,
That ended with the chorus of wailing winds

Thunder in his heart,
He burst like a storm,
She smiled from every drop that fell,
In the dark deluge of memories and pain

Flowers, touches, promises,
Looks, smiles, darkness,
Whispers, breaths, lies,
Tears, farewell, memories,
Silence, hope, despair,
Love, life, prayer

On an icey winter night,
Cutting through a fog of grief,
They bid their first goodbye --
-- with a soft kiss and a gentle hug
The fog would return for many more nights,
Until the day she slipped into it,
Just as they'd reached the edge of dawn

Drunk in her looks,
Numbed by her touch,
He ran amok,
From a distance she watched,
Writhing in pain; a hand stretched out --
-- beneath the sorcerer's veil

A fine madness it was,
Surrendering to the whims of time,
Drifting in the lofty waves of passion,
And floating in the mist of love,
Only to find one day, he wandered alone --
-- in the fine madness that it was

When memories lose their sheen,
When chronicles turn into folklore,
When words fail to tell the story,
When love's first blush begins to fade,
And when faces turn into a blur,
It's time to dust the weathered leaf,
And pen a new ode to love

Sometimes they tore through the silence,
Speaking with their eyes,
Telling each other --
-- this is not the way it was to be,
Precious were those moments --
-- like the roar of rain in an early morning dream,
Just before daybreak

Then one day, silence consumed her,
And fire engulfed him.
He badgered her soul,
She took it.
He badgered her laughter,
She took it.
He badgered her tears,
She took it.
But when he badgered her self-esteem,
She shot back; with venom in her eyes,
and a prayer on her lips

Amorous words rolled over his mind,
Tender smile crossed his face,
Eyes locked endearingly,
A cloud burst; she vanished in the torrent,
Love dripped down in tears

Fire consumed his each breath,
Fire bellowed through his words,
Fire singed his eyes,
Fire blinded his love,
Fire crippled his thoughts,
Fire lived to burn -- and to burn

Have you ever revisited the future?
It was written on the walls that took their weight,
On the grass that chuckled for their walk,
On the clouds that drizzled with joy,
In the footprints of a time that stood still --
-- to watch them blossom and fade,
Go. See. Everything is where they left it,
In the footprints of a time bygone

Heads bowed, feet dragging over strewn leaves,
They walked with fingers locked,
Played ball with little pebbles on the way,
Letting each other win with half-smiles,
Tender sun flickered through the trees,
Guiding them to the end of the road

Wailing winds whistle through the maple forests,
Echoes fade -- of voices, chuckles in reckless abandon,
Head spun in a whirlwind of memories,
He reached out in the air,
Drew a face with his fingers,
Touched the contours of emptiness,
And the echoes vanished into the dark maple forests
The magic had waned

A ruthless lover they say he was,
He knew not the rules of the game,
A glasshouse he built for her,
Where the lark was kept caged,
Hidden from the breaths that could caress her face,
And the lights that could fade her love,
But the bird was full-fledged,
She shattered through the glass one day,
He knew not the rules of the game

Tender smiles were a give-away,
The pensive moments,
The slow trails of the cigarette's smoke,
The hmm and haws,
And icey touches told a story --
that had ended long ago

Come let's play dice,
The board is laid out,
Cheerleaders, usher in the prize,
Roll the dice,
In a flicker, she blinked
-- his breath away

And then the magic waned,
The sorcerer had run out of tricks,
God's puppetry set in motion,
They say a new juggler was in town

Sitting in the lap of cane fields,
Facing a seamless horizon --
-- splashed with the melting colours of dusk,
A touch so trepid, so unsure,
An embrace so everlasting.
But dusk it was; there was darkness in the hue

Blinding rain at an empty bus-stop,
Shimmering sheets of water slammed the face,
Darkness punctured by a passing car,
Pensive they sat, drenched in the day just gone by,
There was no tomorrow; the skies knew this

Singed by the fire,
of words as cold as venom,
He stood in the middle of rush-hour traffic,
Listening to the silence of the city,
How did he get there?
The cacophony slowly fades in,
He sees a road ahead; He knows the road; He'd built it with bare hands,
Walk, for there's no looking back

Remember the words,
Blown through the afernoon gust,
that blew the strewn leaves?
At the call for prayer,
He had read an ode to God

Stolen glances on the dance floor,
Half-a-smile through flickering lights,
Melting eyes sing a song,
Moist hands lead the way,
Down the garden path

Silences make such vivid memories,
Their colours so intact,
Their smells so near and fresh,
Their words so loud and clear,
Their tears so wet with prayers

Vision darting through dark alleys,
Head spinning; world, a whirling gust on an an empty landscape,
Of memories gnawing at the lyrics of a song,
Threshing it; clothes for a walk in the park

She sat there stoic,
Eyes lowered, lips quivering,
Hands clasped in a shivering grip,
Listening to the silence in the room,
Scared,
As he stood soaking the stillness,
For one last time

Soaked in listlessness, huddled in dark spaces,
She lifted a strand of hair off her face,
Eyes half-shut,
They dreamt a dream unseen, unforgiving