MEANT TO BE

Where are the days when the sun shone bright?

When we went strong, with all our might

Surrendered to each other

Prepared to fight, to the morning light.

Gone are the days when we saw each other,

Cuddled up together, looked out for one another

Curled up in the couch, I kissed your pout

Now I’m all alone... when I sing.

I can still feel your hair against my face,

Can remember your beauty n your grace.

Can still feel your warmth with-in me

Oh! I know that we were meant to be

Can we hold hands again under the starry sky?

Can we speak for long, n on the grass we’ll lie.

Can I feel your face against mine?

Oh! Please say yes, for one more time.

When i saw you the other day,

All my thoughts went astray.

Why couldn’t you have waited for me?

Cause i always thought we were meant to be.

The Singing Stones

And there it stood, the great old monument,

Below the vast, everlasting firmament.

Its face, washed by a hundred rains; tanned by a thousand suns.

It still stands, immobile and resolute,

Mocking at the test of time.

Its beauty, as always- divine,

Though the days of pomp are gone

Though festoons no long adorn.

Its not a structure, but poetry.

Not carved, but composed by a hundred toiling hands.

Written not, from the tip of their quills,

But etched, by the edge of their chisels.

How many cold winters has it seen?

How many summers there have been?

How many raids has it witnessed?

No one can tell, as it stands quiescent.

The bodies of the hands might have withered away,

To death, they might have given way.

But, such beauty and splendour that they have made,

Surely has made their souls to stay.

Minstrels still sing its praise,

None who set eyes, move their gaze.

A creation, as such, shall never again be seen

It goes on to prevail for posterity.