Silence lies like a blanket on the darkness of my room....
I can only sense my silhouette sitting in the dark,
Cutting a shape out of the inky black velvet...
The only thing that gives a sense of life is perhaps my own breath.
And the only thing my mind can perceive is the pitter-patter of the raindrops through an open window.
Or is it the throb of my own heart, that is trying to tell a tale...
A flickering desire for someone to come,
And steal it to lands faraway !
To fill the silence with the jingle of the honey-drops
Into which all shapes melt and gain new lustre
That fades all darkness and brightness is strewn everywhere.....
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