Sunday, March 30, 2008


i always saw him shrouded in mysteries
and he was carrying some too.
i was gripped by admiration
he dropped in on my dreams
speaking cryptic allusions.
i never thought of him
when sleep parted my eyes.
it started when we started
speaking, it just crept in-
the disillusionment- he was
ordinary but climbing heights
i dont want to look at.
that was the secret in him
once known, i've never dreamt of him.
(rendering of a prose by ms s reka)

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