By Arti Rai
on the ruins
on the ruins of my grave
strew those flowers
that bloom in love season
and lovers which crave
forget not to lay a bunch of roses
and carve my grave next to his lane
by the side of the river in lover’s premises
midst the roses and roses and roses
and shed some tears
for the poetess demise
for the peace of her soul
for the love she wears
why don’t you come
deads
are enthroned
in a hard framed portrait
a little space they accommodate
hung on the yellow walls
in the hall
incences
fume holiness in front
of the still picture but snapshots
of their memories walk
around
they walk
as a live picture tapping
feet on two legged silhouette
as lively as the mortal
man of breath
family
cherish time of the past
only to search some solace
blowing tearing sobbing
wiping eyes
secretly
they sob oh why do we miss
you deep wretched
hey why don’t you come
hun
lust and love
lust is a pleasure
for some moments
blessed by the virtue of
impatient behaviour
love is a bliss persistent
sticking and ungoing
lust is haughty fuffy
an arrogant hilly river
love is quiet but deep
like ocean serene lust comes and goes
love rests forever
deep engraved vivacious
lust is complaining
love is understanding
lust is a drop without which
love can stand firm stern
without love lust tumbles quick
and would be lost soon you see
love forever lives flourished
celebrated life long unrivalled
Academy of the Heart And Mind 
Ohhh Such a multi dimentional perspectives you paint with your words. Beautiful, I have to go back and read again and again. Thank you Arti Rai…
LikeLike