Stoned

Watching askance from the veil
Of the cold heart
With thick and moist eyelashes
Coated with layers of mascara
And the scarlet shimmer

Dissolving the feigning presence
Of all the other wishes
Along With
The alluding and shabby makeup
It has carried since ages

Still waiting to see
The silver ripples
On the bosom of
The silent river
And talk to them

Until the stilness descends
and the dogs start barking
Ominously to keep away
The shadows of those
Bizzare memories, following me

And am still waiting
For those pages to come
In folds of which
I have kept me intact
Still waiting