Apr 13, 2010

My Open Plain - Paroe Dhingra

my words were just words till you came into my life
   I spoke free, a seed on an open terrain
 I fell on a flower who was dieing
     slowly, but I couldn't leave
the wind shook me and there I was
                       on the field once more....
   gently i landed on your petals and
you grew sweetly crading dieing me
        soon the wind shook me
                    and i flew away pleading the wind
                                       to live happily in your petals
once I accepted the breeze, i wanted a seed to brush...
      not a flower nor the structural ground

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