Wednesday, May 8, 2013

The Morning Dusk of memories

I saw the clouds encroaching towards
The sky they might never conquer
half-lit by the grace of the sun
Others mundane, dark and dull.
(As they must be)

In them the winds went bustling apart
From heavens to hells
and unknown afars...

The sun seem to wave the bye
And moon desperate, to say "Hi!'

The canvas brush go smothly afloat
on the clouds painted by artist's woe
of tremor that had shook us all ; 
when tornado hit humanity
on that morning Dusk.

I remember It as "just a memory".

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