in the sky when red blends with yellow something beautiful forms and something crimson. on the canvas when brush stocks blends then something evocative forms and something Masterpiece. in the night when blue blends with black then something iridescent forms and something lilac. in the veins when red blends with green something menace forms and…
Poem 15: Candle
i burn peaceful projecting various outlines, something beneath me melts and slowly my height declines. in front of me is the mirror i see myself and sometimes i flicker, it’s a thing of wonder how luminous is my figure. as the time passes i disappeared from the mirror now my long wick neck touches the…
Poem 14: Rain
it comes with a little shower but ends with a thunder. it replenishes the flowing brook and disturbs my slumber. drops slips from my window pane and leaves a watery mark behind. it cleans the year’s dust from the leaves and manifest its true background. – Ashish Kumar Singh
Poem 13 : Painful
he carved his love on my heart deep and down, the unknown pain was unbearable and skin got brown. he used sharp words as needle and my heart as paper, i only knew him as my lover but he came out as an apprentice painter. his love love for me was very little always enough…
Poem 12: Rose
she stood there holding my gaze draped in red and appeared from haze. she was wet with monsoon shower tiny dews like droplets covering her like bower her fragrance was strong and mingled with air she was beautiful and seduced me and held my stare. – Ashish Kumar Singh
The Beauty Of Being Mad 