Random

Why else do you think,

I write?

What is me,

is the poem.

Things reflected.

Emotions pellucid.

Eyes can't see through my poem,

your heart can see through it.

*

Hand in hand,

mountains behind,

oceans waiting

to be tread.

The sky turns

empty.

The clouds

hide themselves.

*

Wait.

Wait for it.

It'll come.

It should.

Its due,

forever.

It should come,

wrapped up, ribboned.

P.S. : Random verses, thanks to the * .