Crispy rush hour is strafing through me <br />How I console myself <br />The riddle of reminiscence dash the garden of my soul <br /> <br />The rain of your lips <br />The wind of your breath <br />Reverberate with dozen of depth <br /> <br />I can’t lay a hand on them <br />I can’t feel them <br /> <br />Laying like a tendril smashed by the squall of sorrow <br />Cling on the rust of fervent glow. <br /> <br /> <br />(c) raju baruah'10/07/2010<br /><br />Raju Baruah<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dark-night-of-the-soul/
