Dry leaves of passion and spark of love,

Set fire on my heart,

I burn, long before any one could know,

the soft surface,deep inside, wither a breath can cause


reminds of its feebleness,

still I wish intensely,

to love and to live, the unfortunate beauty of a tree,

shrunken into a pot,

its obstructed desires and unseen tears,

destitute of a hopeless bird,

who lost its home in  a playful wind,

still I stick to my lost dreams,

looking for hope from distant land,

I sit with blood spilled thoughts,

I scratch on my heart,

to see what is smouldering inside,

and at last I found a kiln ,

a kiln of my lost dreams,

kiln of my passion and love,

desires set fire on my pyre,

and I turned to ashes,

long before I know