May 25, 2006



In a far of land
they have a tale
jus as old
bout a willow hill
now home of absinthe
and marsh
Snake roads that lead
to a half built
zenith perched asylum
There outside
near the foot steps
he lay
every evening
of spring
thro may
Doth he sings
a song of truth
bout his joy
life and emotions
Then gone was he
lost and one
with the sands of time
But not his song
that reverberates, the folks
they say


The song allured
souls that listen
until a naive girl
amongst the folks
ventured to climb
the willow hill
Through the treacherous
slippery path
that crimsoned her feet

By dusk, there she was
unperturbed by the robbing cold
murky twilight creeps!
iridescent stars wink

At end of the arduous effort
there she was
by the old cross
that stood on a tomb.

Craved on the tomb
were words as these

"I will sing and sing
an ever ceasing song
the song of my joy
the song of my sorrow
the song of love
the song of life"

Weary and tired
Seraph, she swoons

And there he came
to bed her in his arms
Kissed her forehead
And started off with his song..

Psst….in the church I was singing “the old rugged cross”…and I got into this weird imagination of Part I… …I narrated it to Vinx. He immediately wrote Part I. Seeing Part I…exactly come the way I imagined it to be… a strong thought struck me and I wrote Part II which was finally touched by Vinx again ….so here is a joint effort .... the creation of Archangel…

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