I often surf through my collection of snapsmy heart asks
Darlin these are too life less
I wonder
what my heart wants to prove
But I keep my silence intact
Not because that I know no reply
its rather
I know
what my heart can't afford to understand
why I am so enigmatic
at my own nerves
I do ask myself
who is there
that can have a shadow
at least
I again avoid my own queries
my heart is fed up with my way of taking things so silent
I murmur to my soul what should I tell to this spoilt child
there is hardly anything
that is everlasting
It interrupts
what the hell you want to prove
I say nothing
but I know
I have replied a lot
is that
my heart is so senseless
or else
senses have become too obsolete
to the exotic
I have happened to have
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