"Stranger" At The Bus Stop

Oh dear, Oh my dear.

With splendid scene of love,

and the passion in smear,

I am watching you from here.

Every step you take,

every time you move,

every word you say and

every time you say.

I said I am watching.

Those slow twists and turns.

That grey cheque shirt.

The half rolled sleeves and

the semi ironed knotted tie.

That brown bag of yours.

And that black umbrella in the drizzle,

ah it hides the mysterious face,

I would love to describe.

I am waiting by the balcony,

and it seems like a Saturday.

I miss you "stranger" at the bus stop.

For I wish we talk, some evening.

Light of hope

In the middle of the night,

in the sight of light,

farther from dark,

beside the only hope.

I sit in dilemma and in disguise,

between two sides of the world,

one which is dark and seems the end,

and the other in the light of hope.

Is there any truth or everything is a lie,

Is yet to be determined and yet to be found.

But it is the light that I face now,

till I get to other side, it is difficult to say .

For those with hope, there is a light

It shall cure, till it glows.

For the rest, there are all the nights

which are meant to sleep and keep closed eyes.