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Broken Heart
November, 1992

It was a misty morn
The season of loneliness.
The flowers covered with dew drops
Like a tear smitten face.
When I wandered like a vagabond -
Something vanquished inside me.

The green grass, wet and numb
As if full of unshed tears.

I stopped and gazed around
Wanting to drink it up all.
Feeling, it might quench my thirst
My thirst to discover
My thirst to uncover
My thirst to conquer Ö.

Something which heart beholds
But the eyes donít see
Something easy to feel
And yet, remote, aloof, and unseen.

I tried to gulp down the beauty
And the surroundings Ö. full of tears
As if the night had passed
And left it behind to cry
Yet the tears are not salty
They seem sweet, they seem cool
They display colors in the sunshine
Inspite of the fact that they have lost -
The stillness of the night
The caress of the night breeze
The gaze of the starry sky.

They break and disappear
And yet again they appear.
Spellbound when the night returns
And grow under the whiteness of the moon
As if, to them itís an immense satisfaction
To appear then again disappear.

I stood charmed
My gaze transfixed
Ready to gulp it down all
And tried to force a smile upon my lips. Trying to control the salty tears
That had welled up inside me -
Suddenly and unexpectedly for no particular reason.

When I saw the beauty of those sweet ones
I realized it was a waste to shed
A few of my sultry ones
A futile attempt on my part
To console and rid myself of the past memories and thoughts
That frequently appear and break my heart apart.

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