Unsung

In the vastness of green; the cooling blues
I had a brush to paint the rainbow hues
The key fell down, the labyrinth of darkness
Covered with mist - formless, colorless;
Uphill outside a ragged hut
Besides the stone, yellow wood-fire,
Unsung, she sang.

Fondness

Fondness fades away. Right after you've had the best of it. Its gone then, in a moment - lost in the murkiest of the lakes, never to resurface. You can faintly recall its smell in the blowing wind and then it gradually disappears in the oblivion. You know its around, mocking at you like an ancient painting in the living room. Teasing you, crawling back, making its way into your memory. For years you run from it, the harder you run the faster it crawls. Then one day you realize its you who is trying to run away from yourself. When you stop running, and sense the same familiar smell in the same wind, there is a smile on your face - glowing like a reflection of the cold white moon in a murky lake. Its beautiful now but only a reflection still, of what you were once fond of.

Syncopated

Its cold in here; you're miles away
Just a bunch of thoughts; I can't convey
The choices you and I made then
buried in unearthly times
In the haven that we reconciled
the night beguiled
out of pace in an uneven ground
we ran out of time !