Reverb

The Wolf and the Moon A chilled winter at the poles Auroras roaring their lights... Eyes shining thru deep holes.. Paranoid he searches in the nights.. A silver gleam over his fur.. Wolverine howls over a hill.. White blanket world over. Silence on the wooden sill.. A fight for blood continues. A search of the moon... The wolf shudders it's hues.. The wolf has his boon.. The shimmer in his eyes... He engulfs her, within... Transient inbetween lies.. She lives in serene... The wolf and the moon.. He plays all the fools.. Unconquerable & cool... He howls only to his moon... The world shuts it's days.. The wolf wakes up strays.. Moon watches him thru He gleams in silver hues.. The wolf and the moon.. A heart bleeding alone... Blood rushes in soon... The skies open on their own.. In his eyes blinded by her.. Wars he left to fall.. Wins hearts loser... Snow shades them all... Chills pristine white... the silver lining skies... Auroras

Dark forest shadows sway... World is dead it's still alive. . Time distances itself away... A fire inbetween the woods High Above the din of silence... The spirit of the wild... Cries in its defiance... The moon shadow child... Dew of tears near.. The lake sprawls a hue... Dawn awakened spirit here.. The daybreak is still due.. The blue within the fire.. The spirit of the wild.. Cries it's melody higher... Ripples Across kisses mild.. Death is no fear... Alive is... The shadow stays clear... Divine feeds... The whispers of the Air.. The spirit of the wild... Blossoms a silent stare... Auras engulf it's ride... Life in its bosom... Weaves a conscious fabric... The play is awesome... Heaves the intrinsic... Clouds cover the moon... The silver lines glow.. Creatures sense it soon... Smells the spirits blow... Arriving at the gates.. The spirit of the wild... In-between her wild states... Stays by her side... Dawn gallops thru the n

In those deep shores, Searching dead shadows, fallen dried leaves.. Chills rising up the sleeves.. A walk on the battle field.. Bodies lying cried to yield.. Cold skins Watching sunset.. Win and Bow eyes wet.. Needs wait, wants desparate.. Time to deliver compassionate fate.. Birth is your Cry.. Death is when it dries.. Embrace the sigh.. Blood in rivers.. Awakening rhyme.. live For a while.. Breathe for the time.. Till the Pyre piles.. We did nt' Start it. We shall just pass it.. in between a hanging swing.. Realisation seeps and rings.. Bodies buried bodies burned.. We are more than death Churns.. 

Everyday things inspired him. He scraped the mud beneath the Tulsi plant In an empty coconut shell and filled it with some pulses inside the mud with the enthusiasm of a child, sprinkled some water on it and carefully placed it beside a show plant in his home.His father watched him, peering, clearly showing irritation and he blurted out words in anger . The child absolved it . That got me to the thinking that A child delivered is life with an exponential growth as a human, but somewhere people deliver life to grow them into their own whims and fancies. No parent would agree but inside every home, democracy , and the mediocrity ,"the system", all have an equal impact on a growing child. There is right to speech, but its wrong to say. There is right to information, but its wrong to act there is right to equality, but its wrong to the reserved. A land where people fought, sacrificed their lives for freedom, truth, Individual empowerment, still cries inside a child for expres