I stand here facing the horizon,
Counting the kisses,
Maybe not, maybe yes
What are you thinking?
My hands are burning
Are you still choking?
Come, let's stay here a little while,
You ,me and your wings of colour.
Our loneliness keep us moving,
Fail me not in deciphering you
You still stay numb and cold
Breaking the twigs
Making a fuss.
Maybe not, maybe yes.
I showed you,
The twinkling eyes of woodpecker.
But you,
You made me listen to the songs of nightingale.
Maybe not, maybe yes.
Your wild smell
And the breezy air
Is holding me back from return.
Your wings of fruits
And the choppy waters
Are promising a home for me.
Your wildness wonders me
spilling around me
After every drizzle.
Come hold my hand,
Let me know you,
Let me walk along you,
Cuddle me close
Your blues and greens and yellows
And their symphonies
Cause the death of my body
And float my soul.
Maybe not, maybe yes.
Your lullabies with nuances
Of a spell,
Make me guilty.
Unleashing my fears
You protect my hate.
When pangs of nostalgia still
Disturbs me,
You tether me to this cascade,
Enlightening and whistling,
'Welcome home'.
And yes, maybe this is 'home'.
A.C
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