My Friend

My friend I know, I am only face to you.

And everything you search is in my face.

White, beauty-ugly, sorrow-sad and black.

But my friend my face is not prophetic soul

Sometime it will not delight you

Sometime it will puzzled your voice.

Sometime your eyes struggles to see colors behind the clouds.

Or sometime I cloths its nakedness

My friend, I am only voice to you

And everything you want to learn is in my voice

Thick, anger-surprise-happiness and thin.

But my friend my voice is not moonlight

It will not hover your soul every time.

Nor will it move you often

Often Strings of throat will get cut

And low will be pitching and I will be arti-music.

Reason

My lord, I never understand the play of time

Am I playing with the time

Or time is playing with me

You said, ‘I was born for a reason

Reason for I grow.

Is this the reason?

Times leaves me? Or I have to leave the time?

Then what about my reason?

Long ago, I met a man of Buddha’s soul.

I asked him, ‘Lord says I was born for a reason

What is the reason?

He answered in language hard to understand

My son,

If you are searching for  a reason

Search in the darkness of your home

May it will not lie

Ask to the windows

From where you saw world lies

Ask to the kitchen

Where your food was cooked

Ask to the bed

On you slept.

Ask to the life

You lived.

But remember you are broken-wing bird

That cannot travel in time

Nor with time.

Promise me

At last I came.

 Do you remember our promise?

Meet my groom

But where is lepo?

Alas!  You broke the promise.

I recall

                                                           On the night of July, I abandoned you.

Summer pass by, winter came along….

Night were wild and day were dull

Years and decade past

But I never return to you.

My heart bleated, when I heard of you.

Your wind cheered me

Your snow with I still know

On Your summer grassland, my imagination slept.

 Again on the night this July

 I am going to abandon you.

Afterwards, I will never return to you.

And betray you

Yet, I know you will never abandon me

And punish me for what I am doing.

So, promise me

On the night of this June

 Years from now, when I am dying.

Come to take me on your laps

I was born on them.

I prefer death on them.