Treasure Island

veeraiyah subbulakshmi


Weep, Baby, Weep


Immodest clouds weeps,
Making all kind of noises,
Whistling from the lips,
Blowing through the tongues,
Thundering of the wild hearts
and dripping of the unsettled desires,
As if we are handicapped,
Auditory is stuffed to be hard of hearing,
The flashes are shown in lightening streaks,
To our unassuming blinking eyes,
As if we are both deaf and blind,
The cool breeze and the violent air,
Slap and beat our skin to witness the play,
Up above our head and below the sky,
On the spots of the eyes of clouds,
While it camouflages as the crying of the sky,
Which make the earthlings to be happy and shy,
Covering their body and head with plastic coats,
No one makes another to be sleepy and titillated,
When one desperately cries making all these fun,
The weeping of the sky can certainly do it,
To cool our hearts, mind and stomach.
weep, Baby, weep it may strengthen your heart,
leaving and pouring all unwanted thoughts.

Submitted: Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, March 20, 2013

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