Monthly Archives: March 2015

fickle heart


so fond of rustic and unexplored
there are butterflies in my stomach
I cry out baffled amidst the robust cries of sea gulls

As sand is crushed into bits
My heart is captive of endless thoughts,
In the light of reasons,In an act of indulgence…
I sit face-to -face with silence.

Like a serpent entwined to the sandalwood…
I lay awaiting shaped by morality
Simmering jewels adorn my feet
in the midst of Arabic perfumes and scents

Given my human feelings…with no pride of decoration
I bare my heart to thee in such a serendipitous fashion

Drowned by whispers of prayers my vanity dies,
Lost in chanting beads….I open my eyes