Poetry is a music a rhythm if you follow the rules u will love it. So take a glass of wine or a cigarette and read it smoothly slowly lovely.
Wind in pace Water with laze Moved it’s self Waves I hailed down my fumes Deep down it roomed A face A shape Crystal and clear In Lake Surface of water Her face In Black water Surface of water Brown eyes Deep there in water Surface of water Water your face Face I still remember, There in lake water Moved my palms To touch the water Water Gentle and lentil No harm in water Broken dreams Took a shape Fluctuating water Colored lake Lake Lake Waves took her away As sleeves of past Went to a way To never come back Her face My ways Took unknown shape Unknown race Swept away With some sleeves of lake Some sleeves of lake Sleeves of lake Lake….
Indian Street Writer
To My Lady With Love