by Ravi Tandon
Aha, a beautiful morning to wake up,
The dream that went by.
Oh, could I like turn it to reality ?
If only those powers were within me.
That beautiful lady, alone and drenched,
In the sorrow of what was not to be.
Pained by what she could not fathom,
In regret, and yet ever so unrelenting.
Why dreams mimic aspirations ?
And reality, those hidden apprehensions ?
Why dreams are sweetly brittle ?
And reality sorely bricky ?
Oh the lady, got lost, in,
My thoughts, dreams or reality,
Am I confounded by her presence,
Or does her absence lose me ?
There is a sweetness, in that dream,
As I revisit those experiences,
Moments that reality could never take away,
From the memories that I still hold close.