Tuesday, March 19, 2013

In the cold of the night

In the cold of the night, your eyes on me,
those eyes, watery and deep, enchanting me with their beauty.

In the cold of the night, your eyes speak to me,
speaking with a language of its own,
for it do not need words I feel.

In the cold of the night, the tears runs down those cheeks,
the tears, long withheld, now flowing free.

What lies behind those yearning eyes, I think,
the thirsty eyes, drinking the love that you see in me.

Those eyes are a window through which I see deep into you,
see those parched dreams which thirsts for some hope anew,
see the raging storms, oh! how wildly they blew.

We lay there, in the cold of the night,
wrapped in each other's arms,
and the fires in us lay burning through the night.




© 2013 Abhijit Pandit