Tuesday, 10 November 2015

Mystery Of Early Morn

I don't want to give her a face
The one who writes in hazy days

Let her be the imaginary form
Residing in clouds of early morn

She may look like a regular being
But inside her lies the mysterious teen
The one who is a lot more
Than the waves hitting water shore

If you think, you know her well
Its all illusion, I can tell.

She is an enigma
Larger than artist's imagination
Bigger than God's creation
Twister than writer's plot
The one with never-ending train of thought

Like an open book she stands
Lets you read the page she wants
You don't get to choose
Reading the whole is against rules

She remains a mystery
Even to herself
Some pages are blank
To be filled by an elf

Will ever come a day
When the my
stery will unlock
Will ever stars shine
In early morn?


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