Eulophia

Life is a duel between promise and love
A duel with strange rules
Sometimes one opponent never enters
And even if enters, winning is irrelevant
But you are always on the losing side
You want both to win, which is near to impossible
In this strange duel, one opponent is always late
But this late entry makes all the difference
Your life is taken for a rollercoaster ride
Your heart becomes a velvet cake
And you lie stone-cold taking the cuts
You wish you could scream and run
But you are sinking into a bottomless ocean
You are blooming in an endless spring
Also falling as a pale yellow maple leaf
You are on the top of a snowy mountain
Also thirsty as a Eulophia in the cruel desert.

The Spring of Her Love

Love is an invaluable gift
Wrapped in insecurity
And opened with possessiveness.

When love melts into soul
A poem is born

If you want to know
Why a wolf howls at full moon
Fall in true love

She smiled at me as full moon
Touched me as monsoon rain
Hugged me as mountain mist
And trusted me as love of life

Every time she smiled at me
Autumn and spring bloomed in heart
Dawn and dusk melted down to sea
Life and death frozen in time

She found herself
In the depths of my love
I lost myself
In the melody of her soul

I kissed her shadow in my dream
I bloomed in the spring of her love

She was the unheard melody
Who made me a poet

When touch is a mirage
Love craves, heart bleeds
And soul howls

The thin line drawn by helplessness
Decides the fate of the lives of lovers

I will keep you so happy, I told
Tears were rolling down her cheeks
At that moment in the west
Wounded sun was again disappearing
Into the calm sea.

When the poet in me dead
I knew she was the poem.

Respect and Love

What we need the most?
Respect or Love

Does love die young
When respect betrays?

Love comes with
Or without respect?

Or love even need
Respect to survive?

Or respect eats
Love for breakfast?

You will kill respect
To save love?

Or you believe Love
Always brings respect?

Or Love and Respect are
Two sides of one coin

Or love is the rose
And respect, its fragrance?