My Proud Peacock!

This time of year
You proud peacock
What makes you act sans fear?
Gifted by nature
You deny
You are only a measured bait!

Your pride fails to buy
My connoisseur eye
You proud being
Step down on earth
And let our story begin

You flaunting feathers
In cloud and heathers
Blessed with a life
Do just dare
To descend your stair
To meet some face
Cause you are no prophet!

Your living process too
Is destined to cease
So,
When our ends are same
Why feed a mind untamed?

Poetry

What does your word mean?

You scribbled commotion!

You restless scene!

An abode of vagueness,

That pours insanity in mind.

Why are you so proud?

A web of emotion!

Clawing an eternal duel,

Breeding a world of lexicon.

You reach my hand,

You curve my stand,

Then you cover my seasons,

With snowy cold reasons.

You are my escapes

My silences

A sweet nothingness

Melting my defences

You are my sleep

When my wet eyes keep me awake

Poetry – my beloved sins of will

When I speak no language, but cry