The nails he placed tore my outer drapes;
rusted, those sharp edges perished
never touched my heart
nor to my pure soul;
he had in his hand aplenty
curses from a timid north wind
and waves from one dead sea
and those curses traveled back
on wings towards its source
where he stood on a mountain top
to breath but he turned breathless
for the first time in his life
he felt he lost as he could not
hold back his own destiny...




November 23,2009

Rema Prasanaa

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/unexpected-23/