Recursive dreams,
Bursting at its seams,
Some happy and some of sorrow,
Laughing and crying like there’s no tomorrow,
Shameless pride,
Of an exquisite bride,
Is mending a broken stick,
While tripping the light fantastic,
Light at the end of a tunnel,
The liquid dream drops through a funnel,
A sashay into an uncharted domain,
Or maybe it’s a high priest’s ordain,
Is a bright red love’s synapse,
A beautiful mind’s relapse?
And I see light at the end of a tunnel,
As my liquid dream gushes through a funnel
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Somewhere Life Is A Figment of Imagination
4 comments:
thought the blog lost the poet, but felt good good to see the dead poet back in society ;-) .... hehehe
i meant blog lost a poet and found a script writer ;-), by the way karan johar called, he wants you to pile a script for next movie...
khusiyon ke gam aur gam ki khusiyan
start working
i have this doubt...is ther some code out ther in ur head generating a new poem every time so perfectly and looks like it runs on a random number generator
@WB
feels good to be back ;)
@VP
lol...will take that as a compliment :)
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