Showing posts from April, 2013

Her silence.. red!

When her silence speaks, it is heard and heard. It is bright and red, but a growing scum. Once the scum had a dream, a dream on her own. The flight of a heron above the hills and heaven. The clouds are far, but alluring they are, when in the flight of heron, misguiding they are. Then the day it was, and the cloud was her own. And the heron so light was brighter and bright The colour she loved, was red and love, of scent and sweat, and a passion wild, of two wilder ones! Yet now it's red, which kept her quite. Now lost a dream, of strength and pride. But when her silence speaks, it is heard and heard, it's kept but insane, like the secret nun. Red is insane! Red is all she need, To win the war of love and pride Red is to save! Red is for the wild, and to free her from, from this silence red. PHOTOGRAPHY : MADAPAT RAHUL NANDAN