About Me....... a Picture...Imperfect...

Standing in front of mirror, I just gazed.
A figure so hazy around, I was completely dazed.
The paint so lost, the paper in shreds;
but still shinning golden frame.
I scratched my head & strolled for long
in my forgotten memory lanes.
I knew him damn! I know him yeah,
but can't recollect the name.
Do you know him; tell if you know me,
Come & bring me out of this puzzling pain.

I checked my eyes, have I lost my sight,
Turned back and saw lovely prizes won in life.

All over the wall, I saw the pictures of my friends,
The splendid years of life, with whom I had spend.
These wonderful pictures which I placed in costly frames,
They had faces that I can't remember, Oh! What a piteous shame.

These were the pictures of trust; they smiled at my every joke.
My broken dreams they shared, crying my tears as their own.
How easily but I let them go & was forced to live forlorn.
But that time thought, “Hey! On Earth wasn't I born alone?”
This mirror man! Wasn’t he companion of my fate?
See the irony now; I have messed up even his name.

I saw again the mirror; saw through the labyrinth of eyes,
They looked as mine, but damn! No higher the curtain rise.

Alas! So lost was I, in making my golden frame,
To place my picture in best, I bore so much pain.
The frame was gained & was prettiest of all,
But the person in my picture, how was he called?

So if about the man in mirror you have any lead,
Come and please tell the noun about me!!!!

The Rose and the Nightingale....

It was a sweet summer, with shining raindrops,

The streets were Barren, without any mobs;

In this season of love,came upon a nightingale;

In a garden lavishly holding,drops on flowers like spangle.

The Nightingale came flying, from far off lands,

Had traveled through mountains,rivers and sands;

The bird felt tired, so rested on a tree,

Sang a melodious song, which spell bounded everybody;

Every leaf applauded the song, as did every flower,

The praise inspired her and she sang with all her power.

In the midst of these there was a white rose,

That it was prettiest of all, everybody supposed;

The nightingale opened its eyes after the song,

And saw the white rose among the throng;

In the first sight the cupid struck.

The nightingale saw the beauty dumbstruck.

The love bitten Nightingale, went to the rose,

Holding true love in her heart,to him she proposed;

The Rose in his pride and arrogance,

Did not heed to the bird’s plight;

Instead told the bird that he’ll love her,

When from the dull white he will become reddish bright.

She looked to the rose with the tearful eyes,

And with a smile surmounting painful sigh

Embraced the flower hurriedly,

tearing her body with the spikes & winning the bet,

As everyone saw the blood oozing out of nightingale's body,

that had made the flower red.

The rose saw the pure & unselfish affection of the bird,

and cried like he has gone mad,

As the bird has filled his heart with love,

but in front of him, on ground, she lay dead.

Every passing day, the rose cried of this woeful crime,

And never let anybody touch him in all his life time;

This is just not a heart wrenching story,

but an eternal love tale

Of the white rose and his beloved,

The Nightingale.