Monday, March 15, 2010

the morning at 3


At 3 in the morning
No sound only the lights shine
In the garden

Peeping through the window
No souls on the roads
Life seems so still

On the walls
The lizards conquer
They hook the sentiments

The bright lights
The garden shines
Only life can blossom

The twisted backache
It deprives sleep
As the hours slowly ticking away

Climbing up stairs
The picture stares
The lighted shadow

When the eyes finally fall
Sleep seeps through the wake
On the morning light roars

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