Pencil in one hand, paper in the other
I scribble and doodle
can not move any further
the sheet lies blank
plainly white as i reflect
like the story in my tank
I glance at my accomplishment
germane does it appears
stuffing me with contentment
frozen is my pencil in this frost
unwitting to fill the space
I title the page as Lost.



The pristine treasure

Oh! Dear, will i be losing you?
few more years and you will evaporate
to bless some other soul like mine
it is less, the time.
Registered in you the names
of pioneers you are proud of
lie here in me in my mind.
Your evolution bedazzle me
your archaic style bewitches.
You are rich, the richest rather
for you possess the best ever.
Every word coming from you
leaves me spellbound, its true.
You are always here, with me
Someday, not asking too soon
Will you promise to have me in you?