Rainy Drive

Floyd flowed in her mismatched playlist
And colours popped on the windshield glass.
Locks were airbrushed and smudged were liners,
As she sped along perfection's past.
Lights played by her shadows,
And time by its nature's play,
She pressed the accelerator on both.
Sometimes as loud as Camus's spirit
Others as lidded as a Freemason's oath.

Being Lost

For its a shame, misfortune is,

Never to have been lost before.

Never to have found, so much to find,

So much up the conjurer's store!

So much of you hides up your sleeve

Washes a little, each day my friend;

And patiently awaits the gypsy mind

As morn awaits a dimlit end.

Violet skies and pearly lands,

Trust me, you'd find what you improvise

And all that's dull and grey as dust,

Just leave it to the old and wise!

Find your laughter, and your wings

If none, just unbreak your heart and fail,

Now how blessed you'd be to lose it all

And find once more fresh hope as well!

-debosmita