Picture In The Dark
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I often stroll out of my door
And walk into the dark
To find something that
I feel was lost ages ago in the moor
But I don’t figure out
What is the string
That tempts me to bring
Something back to my place
That I feel is missing
I often fly out of my heart
Into the dark black sky
As if trying to fly
To catch up something
Very dear to me but to high
To reach with my humble wings of imagination
Yet the temptation
To figure it out
Keeps alive my sensation
I often try to paint pictures
In the dark corners
Of my heart
But they are never legible
Reliable but not capable
Of expressing me upto desired level
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