This is a strange land. The skies heavy with
Cloud bleeding the sunset in drops of red -
The skies light with the stars. But the stars are new.
This is a strange land. Your feet tread the familiar paths,but the twists and turns are new,
The charred sands are strange. You can't see where the night goes.
This is a strange land. The moon through the window is a face,a face looking down on you. Expressionless. Not happy not sad not anything. And when you touch
Yourself,all you feel is a skull. Here you have no right to a face.
On the table before you, a mask,happy smile sad smile,with a dash of tears. You pick it up and you put it on.
The stars wheel by,the night slopes by, you sit at the window. You watch the night, you drink the dark,
You wait for the hint of dawn.
Copyright B Purkayastha 2011
Cloud bleeding the sunset in drops of red -
The skies light with the stars. But the stars are new.
This is a strange land. Your feet tread the familiar paths,but the twists and turns are new,
The charred sands are strange. You can't see where the night goes.
This is a strange land. The moon through the window is a face,a face looking down on you. Expressionless. Not happy not sad not anything. And when you touch
Yourself,all you feel is a skull. Here you have no right to a face.
On the table before you, a mask,happy smile sad smile,with a dash of tears. You pick it up and you put it on.
The stars wheel by,the night slopes by, you sit at the window. You watch the night, you drink the dark,
You wait for the hint of dawn.
Copyright B Purkayastha 2011
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