Letter to my best friend.

You are the tiny slivers of light
                                   To the lone star in the twilight sky
Gathering the dying bright of the day
                                   Spreading orange at the rim of horizon.

You are the soothing fingers of hope
                                   To the mortal wounds of the broken warrior
As he watches the wisps of life
                                   Escape through the cracks of his shattered armour.

You are the showers of morning rain
                                   To the cracked brown earth on parched land
Opened up in the agony of thirst
                                   Scorched dry in the months of drought

You are the spectrum of colours
                                   To the blind man's midnight dreams
Painting a reality he will never see
                                   Cursed to darkness in the waking hours.

You are the winds of luck
                                   To the born loser of many a years
Whose wheels of fortune like still with rust
                                   Having never moved since his birth

You are the long forgotten tune
                                   To the mind saddened with grief
When nothing can perhaps lessen the pain
                                  Of a loss, which will stay forever.

You are the songs of friendship
                                  To the lonely poet within me
Waiting forever to shower my feelings
                                  On the women I have married.

Copyright: Anirban Sarkar
Circa: 2000