Love peeps from the door left ajar,
silver lining it seems for a life gone sore,
nudge off the cliff of despair
to a blanket of hope slather by men,
like a feel of Grishneshwar temple drop.
Love dances like the rain,
on corrugated sheets of desires,
chattering her way to delight,
bringing a brittle and adrift heart to safety,
a piece of peace she once smeared.
Love speaks in ancient tongues –
lama sabachthani – why have you forsake me,
cradled in the rumbled beats of expectations,
preyed by my deferential delusions,
ruffled by salient silence.
Writer: Samuel Edet
And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods make heaven drowsy with the harmony. (William Shakespeare)