ശംഖ്

Give me the wings of fantasy,

To ride the glistening clouds of crystals,

Amidst its music carrying the silt

Of riverine past to present.

Take me away into those drifting clouds

To let me chase the scissor perfect wings of music laden birds

Flitting the vast ocean blues of heavens.

What if the dreams I perceive

Lie behind those veils of butterfly wings.

I let the passion vines die yet another time,

In the golden sun set for a terrible night of darkness

Wishing if the stars would exhaust in my horizons

And lie ashes to ashes in a reckoning pain of remembrance

Smeared with a hope of meeting flower petals

Full with veins intertwined.