The faces
Who hide behind them
She runs through the myriad streets
Hapless, Helpless
Her eyes softly confused
by the freedom
The crystal stream has
The freedom
Her eyes will never have
Her pink expressions
Borrowed from the paint
Make Lilacs of young spring blush
They lend their fragrance
To a million moments
Her smile made heads turn
Heads who did not know the face
Heads who recognized
Only the paint
A hundred hours
She spent in Solitude
Secretly loving
The silent expressions
Chained in the morning
Behind her pink
Chained in the night
To her scarlet
Crimson blood
Of a thousand years
And uncountable verses
Her words carried
Stains the golden kimono
The one
A master once wove
To pay
For the priceless flower
The kimono now flutters
Hapless, helpless
In the burning winter wind
carrying glances from her eyes
Sojourning through
An oriental age
That made her
The precious queen
Too precious
to breathe her own breaths
The winter lilacs
ask only one question
When will we see Pink again
thats quite a well framed piece Prashant! good job!
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